Star Fox G Wing: Call to Arms
by SF Ghost
Summary: Team G Wing is called back to Lylat to aid in the fight against The Venomian Remnant. But sinister minds plot fiendish schemes, and soon the humans find themselves in another battle concerning not only the fate of Lylat, but also that of a respected ally.
1. Introduction & Character Bios

_**Star Fox: G-Wing - Call to Arms**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Fox. Fox McCloud, Krystal, the Star Fox Team, and any and all places and characters associated with Star Fox are property of Nintendo. All rights reserved. All other trademarks are the properties of their respective owners. The characters Shield, Saber, Ghost, Kyra Hawthorne, Tobey Williams and other characters and places not mentioned in the Star Fox-games are property of SF Ghost, aka. Jakob Meerwald Jensen, circa 2004-2006. I do not intend to profit from this story.

Hello again, everyone, and welcome one and all to the second installment in the G-Wing series! I've learned quite a bit from the wonderful reviewres who dropped by and gave me some words of wisdom during the time of my last contribution, the original G-Wing, and as such, I hope I have improved. Well, I guess we'll just have to see how the chapters evolve, won't we?

Oh, and speaking of chapters, don't expect as rapid an update rate as the 4-7 day margin during G-Wing. This time, I intend to make the gap between updates approximately two weeks long, both for my convenience and also in order for you to "digest" the new chapter properly. So, in conclusion, expect an update every two weeks, in case you're wondering about that.

Now, after all this has been cleared up, the only thing left for me to do is to get this show on the road. Enjoy!

**Team G-Wing Dossiers, ver. 2,0: Welcome Back to the Lylat System****  
**

**Sergeant Mikki (Shield):****  
**

When one's home is the battlefield in the company of one's friends, and one gets separated from this very home for a month, even the toughest soldier can crack after such a time of idle inactivity. And sergeant Mikki – or Shield as he has rightfully become known in Lylat – is definitely not any exception. The month he has spent on his home planet Earth until now has been largely used to play different video games, all the while trying to reminisce his time in Lylat. But still, when the need for him is dire, Shield stands ready to act with his signature Lylatian plasma Gatling-gun and bazooka, putting his friends and the honour and dignity of the Lylat System above everything else, even his own life. This feeling of duty is the primary reason for his rank of sergeant, although – when taking the various heroic and utterly self-sacrificing actions he has performed into consideration – he could easily advance to something higher, which he has obstinately refused himself. He likes to be given orders, thus feeling he serves a higher purpose in his attempts to save as many lives as he can under the capable guidance of a superior. The month on Earth has done nothing to diminish the valorous nature of the sergeant; on the contrary, it has just lain dormant, but when the need arises, it will awaken anew and with full power.

**Lieutenant John (****Saber):****  
**

His reasons to fight may be gone, but his impulses are still there. John – or Saber as he is known in Lylat – is truly a courageous guy when someone gets to know him properly, and a pretty skilled judge of character to boot. However, these qualities are largely hidden behind the forceful impulses and actions that he performs every now and then, at home on Earth as well as on the Lylatian battlefield. Seen conversely, these untraditional and impulsive actions have helped turn the tides of many a battle, in cooperation with the lieutenant's trusty custom blaster and his mystic demonic katana, Ragetooth. John masters his weapons of choice with a hitherto unseen expertise, an astonishing blend of uncanny skill and accuracy, be it in a fierce blaster skirmish, a whirling sword duel or a combat involving both weapons at the same time. Ragetooth, with its strange glowing runes and even stranger demonic powers, enabling it to cut through even the sturdiest of materials while also possessing an eerie "sixth sense" or obscure intelligence of its own, which helps guide the wielder's hand for the perfect strike, is a mystery even to Saber, who claims himself the righteous wielder of this extraordinary blade after taking it from a fallen enemy. The sword does give him an edge in Lylat, where most weapons are long-range particle weapons, and the melee-arms have almost disappeared. It is safe to say that without John's slightly joking and devil-may-care nature, which also helped make him a lieutenant, the Star Fox Team and the Cornerian Army would never have learned the third important aspect of battle besides honour and skill: The aspect of taking things as they come and adapting to deal with the situation. A trait, which Saber masters excellently.

**Commander Jakob (****Ghost):**

The month away from Lylat has made the already intensively contemplative and brooding commander Jakob – also known as Ghost in Lylat – even more contemplative and brooding than before. To some individuals, this may be seen as a good sign, and indeed, his strength shall not be found as much in his arm as it shall in his incisive, physics-oriented and philosophy-driven mind. He has studied these subjects back on Earth for the sake of his amateur interest in them, and he has used his knowledge about physics and philosophy in his work in Lylat as well to help solve a number of problems, since he is rather a stickler for detail. Always said with a touch of characteristic eloquence, his theories and arguments are oftentimes widely recognized, be it those he formulates either for logical or scientific meaning, or merely for comfort to his friends. This incisiveness is an attribute, which gained him the rank of commander in the Cornerian Army and which also earns him the utmost respect, admiration and – in some cases – deep feeling of friendship from other individuals, be it human or Lylatian. This feeling of friendship is – when excluding the natural, strong bonds between him and his earthly, long-time friends, Mikki and John – also found residing deep in the heart of one particular Lylatian or, to be exact, Cerinian: Krystal, Fox McCloud's one and only love, the cerulean vixen by whom Ghost has been accompanied during his hazardous campaigns in the field, the reason for this partnership being his slightly damaged eyesight. Between these two beings with widely different interstellar points of origin, the connection of friendship has grown over time with their various risky endeavours together to be exceptionally strong, creating a seemingly unbreakable bond of friendship, loyalty and trust connecting these two souls. Should the need arise, however, the commander is as competent a martial arts expert as any of his fellow soldiers, and is also capable of utilizing his dual-wielded trademark laser-blasters and laser-SMGs in combat, fighting with fierce valour and discipline, driven by inner feelings to uphold his ideals. When this happens, his mind and body collaborate in flawless unison, creating a perfect equilibrium.


	2. Prologue: Salt in My Wounds

**Prologue: Salt in My Wounds**

From Fox's log: _It's been a month since Team G-Wing left us in order to go back to Earth. After all, they've got an education to see to. But I can't help thinking how much I miss having them here on the Great Fox. And I think the others do, too. Falco keeps talking about Lieutenant John and how he would like to kick his ass in the simulator. Krystal, on the contrary, is pretty silent. When I asked her what was wrong, she just shrugged and said that "a ghost was haunting her from the past". You don't need a first-class brain to figure out that she's missing Commander Jakob, with whom she was assigned to missions for as long as I can remember while they were here, and whose code name was also "Ghost". And I miss Sergeant Mikki. Goddamn, I've never met a soldier more disciplined than him. __But judging from what Pepper says, our days of missing them will soon be over. We're planning to bring them in shortly from Earth. A situation has occurred here in Lylat… and we believe that G-Wing is the only team, which is skilled - and insane - enough to help us out._

The light from his TV-screen was reflected in his Cornerian Medal of Honour, which he had pinned onto the bulletin board in his room as a reminder of the time he had spent in Lylat. But right now, Mikki did not care about that. Right now, he was furiously tapping the buttons of his controller, desperately trying to complete the level in the game he was playing.

If passers-by were looking through the window into his room, they would see an extraordinarily large person tampering with a game controller. His hair, along with the characteristic goatee that protruded from his chin, was dark-blond and short, but yet still possessed the air that made it fluff up from his head a bit. Although he was wearing some loosely fitting clothes, his broad shoulders and stature evidenced that muscles were bulging underneath, giving the impression of a top-trained Marine, which – in reality – he had become in a far away solar system. However, in contrast to his otherwise rather aggressive-looking being, his blue-grey eyes were of a calm and relaxed demeanour, and also an excellent proof that "the eyes are the mirror of the soul" for such was his true nature: Caring and calm, when not fighting fiercely for something he believed in.

Mikki had been struggling with the level for hours, and now he finally felt like he was reaching an end. Silently, he steered his character on the screen around the corner of a poorly lit basement corridor, a heavy machinegun at the ready. Mikki smiled as the weak light in the corridor was reflected in the machinegun; it reminded him of the Lylatian plasma Gatling-gun, which he had been issued during his time in Lylat, and which had served him well, along with his bazooka, to clear out obnoxious enemies. He had become known as Shield, and he had certainly lived up to his code name, always shielding his allies or comrades in war from harm, being the first one in the fray – and usually also the most eager to face the enemy head-on, for such were his beliefs. Mikki strongly believed in valour and honour in combat, a codex or morale, which had been instilled in him over the years. If you died in combat, it was for a good cause and for something you believed in, thus showing your honour towards that cause.

Suddenly, a lot of action broke out on the TV-screen in an instant. Enemies began pouring out into the corridor through small doors to the sides. With a jolt of surprise, Mikki's train of thought about Lylat was derailed, as he was brought back to reality. With a frustrated grunt, he pressed the button to fire his weapon. The machinegun answered with a muffled roar, spraying high velocity rounds all over the place, sending enemies flying. But in spite of Shield's valorous combat, the enemies were too many, and he could only watch in disbelief as his character in the game was massacred. And then, the game popped up with a message:

"Mission failed! Load again from last autosave?"

Realizing that the last autosave was a long way from his current position in the level, Mikki threw his controller across the room with a loud "Shit!", turned off his gaming console and heaved a deep, irritated sigh. He decided with himself that it would be best if he resumed the game tomorrow. Feeling the tiredness overwhelm him, Mikki slumped down into a chair, wondering about what to do.

Suddenly, a sound outside his window made him lift his head with a surprised "Hmm?". It was a noise like a heavy engine descending from the sky, finally coming to a halt on the road outside his apartment. Cautiously, Mikki moved closer to the window and looked out. And there he saw the long, sleek, white and sharp form of the Arwing, the standard Cornerian fighter, its engines still puffing out small fluorescent clouds of fuel.

"This has got to be a dream! I'm not fully awake yet!" Shield thought to himself, considering that he had just woken a couple of hours ago. Nevertheless, he put on his jacket on the outside of his jogging suit and decided to go outside and check it out, instinctively taking his Cornerian Medal of Honour with him and putting it in his pocket.

As he got outside on the road, which – strangely enough – seemed to be completely desolate and without any people on it at this time of day, and felt the cold autumn air against his face, thus realizing that he was not dreaming, Mikki slowly moved closer to the Arwing, finally placing a hand upon its fuselage. And as he felt the light rumble of machinery underneath the fighter's metal-coated surface, he could not help but smile contently. It was real.

He slowly felt across the hull and found the exterior switch to open the cockpit with. As he flipped it, the canopy opened with an almost inaudible buzzing. As he climbed aboard the cockpit and strapped himself in, Shield felt it as if he were truly coming home. He sat in the cockpit with a wide smile on his face because of sheer joy about his returning to his interstellar comrades in arms, and as the Arwing's auto pilot engaged itself, closed the cockpit and started to fly off into the sky, Mikki did not feel scared at all. And when Fox's face appeared on the small holoscreen in his control panel, and began to explain what was going on, Shield's only thought was, "Hell yeah! I'm going back again! Nice!"

---

It was not only Mikki who had problems with a game prior to being taken in by the Star Fox Team. Tensely hunched over his controller and gaming console in the small room in his apartment, John was also pressing buttons frantically, trying to gather enough strength to push his opponent away from the lock in the sword duel, which was whirling across the screen.

His skinny and thin figure shook violently from all the force he applied into mashing the buttons as rapidly as he could. Unfortunately, his vision was obscured a bit, due to the fact that his long and thin, jet-black hair was falling down in front of his eyes because of the shaking. His face appeared rather gaunt because of concentration, the skin lying tightly across the jaw- and cheekbones. He stared fixedly at the screen with a perpetual glint of determination in his grey eyes; a glint which the worst of situations could not take away from him, as it had been proved during several times of crisis in the Lylat System.

As he played, Saber – for that was his code name in Lylat – sported a reminiscent smile at the sight of the sharp katana cutting through the flesh of his adversary on the screen. He thought of the vicious battles he had fought in Lylat with his rather mystic sword Ragetooth – also a katana – which the Star Fox Team had decided to keep onboard the Great Fox for safekeeping, along with his blaster, seeing as how Ragetooth was imbued with obscure, Chaos-like demonic powers, which were not quite clear to the wielder of the blade even at this time. John could understand their reasoning, although he thought that it would be cool souvenirs to bring back to Earth. But for now, his Cornerian Medal of Honour had to make do.

Suddenly seeing his chance as his opponent decided to lessen the force in his push, Saber executed a lightning-fast and seemingly impossible super combo, resulting in many vicious slashes from his main character, damaging his opponent greatly, before finally finishing him off by plunging the sword through his head.

"Yes!" John cried joyfully and raised his arms above his head in a victory gesture out of pure instinct, for a moment taken aback by another memory of his own skills with his sword and blaster in Lylat. But as he leaned back in his chair to watch the endgame credits while taking a sip of his cold Coke, something deafened the wonderful music, which echoed out from the game. It sounded as if a lorry were falling from the sky, so mighty was the roar of engines outside when compared to the quiet that had been before it. When it finally stopped outside his window, John cautiously moved closer to check it.

"What the hell?" he mumbled wonderingly as he looked out of the small window. Because of its size, he could only see a part of the Arwing's body. But on this part, the characteristic Star Fox-insignia was engraved. Saber stared blankly at it for some seconds, before finally realizing what it was.

"Oh man! This isn't happening. This isn't happening!" he cried, shaking his head in utter disbelief. He could not imagine that the Arwings could also come to Earth by auto-pilot if they needed to. But after John had stared at it for a moment, he concluded with himself that the situation in Lylat had to be pretty grim, if they went as far as to send their Arwings to pick them up. He was lucky that almost everyone he knew in the immediate vicinity had gone away on holiday for the time being, so they would not see him leaving in the Arwing. He quickly and greedily swallowed the last of his nicely chilled Coke, before rushing out of the door in his jeans, his shirt and his trusty cap with the Kamikaze-sign on his head. On the way, he checked to see if his Medal of Honour was still in the pocket of his jeans, where he had put it. And luckily, it was.

As Saber jumped into the Arwing with a high-pitched "Woo-hoo!" after the canopy had opened for him, he felt good and excited. And as the fighter craft began speeding up and accelerating, he wondered if the others had also been picked up, or it was only him. But then, Fox's face appeared on the small communicator screen in the Arwing, and John suddenly had a whole lot to think about.

---

Because of the rather chilly and bleak autumn weather, most people stayed indoors. But the lone person, who was walking down the street in the small town a good distance from where Mikki and John lived, clad in a brown leather jacket, grey-white denim pants and brown sneakers, did not seem to mind the lead-coloured sky above his head, nor did he mind the light drizzle of rain or the dead and withered leaves rustling around his feet, courtesy of the chilly wind. His mind was occupied with many other things.

The wind played with the part of his fairly long dark-blond hair, which curled across his forehead in a distinctive arc, making it sway around in gentle bows, as well as the leather jacket, which shielded his tall and slim figure from the cold. His spare and young face, having some slightly aquiline features, donned an almost perpetually serious expression, at the same time seeming focused on the "now", but also lost in deep thought. Had anyone tried to look him in the eyes, they would find that his right viridian green eye held a conspicuous incisive glint, while the left was blocked over by what appeared to be a small piece of glass with a metallic frame surrounding it. What they did not know was that this was a Lylatian vision intensifier, giving him almost normal eyesight on his blind left eye through advanced manipulation of the damaged optical nerve. He had no Cornerian Medal of Honour to worry about, since he had left it pinned to his mission outfit onboard the Great Fox.

Walking lazily down the street with no set goal, feeling the rain and the cold autumn wind chilling his face and clearing his mind, Jakob tried once again to convince himself that the events, which had transpired in the Lylat System a month ago, were actually real. Deep inside, he knew without a doubt that they were real, so this process of thought also served as some sort of reminder for him about the time he had spent there and the persons he had gotten to know. Ghost – as he had become known in the Cornerian Army – was thrilled to know that he had actually met the Star Fox Team for real and joined them on their missions.

Here, he corrected himself to say "especially with Krystal", for it was truly in her company that almost all of his missions had been carried out, along with his dual-wielded trademark chrome laser blasters and laser SMGs. And the human and Cerinian had both benefited from this cooperation: In the six months that they had served together, they had become inseparable, and had developed an exceptionally close friendship and sense of devotion towards one another, which Fox did not seem to mind. This was probably because he knew all too well that Jakob would never seek to take Krystal from him in love. Ghost was fully aware of the perfect chemistry and love, which flowed between the two foxes, and he intended to keep it that way; he never wanted Fox to mourn over Krystal's dead body because of him, or to see that she preferred him to Fox. Jakob had made this quite clear to both Fox and Krystal on various occasions, and it seemed like they both understood.

As he passed a game store, Ghost could not help but take a glance at the window display. In the window was a poster of the Star Fox Team as a commercial for the newest game in the series. But that just brought back even more memories. They were happy memories for Jakob, but at the same time they caused him pain, because he was certain that he would never see them or Lylat again, apart from in games or in dreams.

"Oh yeah! Great! Just rub salt in my wounds," he murmured sullenly to no-one in particular, his voice having a distinctive British accent, which had made him easily recognizable among his friends. He turned around while heaving a rather depressed sigh and continued his gloomy walk down the street. Suddenly, he was deafened by something, which sounded like a missile on a crash course straight for him. Ghost looked up, terrified, half expecting to see a bomb heading for him, but instead he saw a glimering blue and white Arwing descending from the sky, finally landing in the street.

Quickly taking a look around to make sure no-one else was there to see it – and there was no-one because of the cold autumn weather – he jumped into the cockpit of the fighter while mumbling "Thank God for autumn and medical technology!" The last part of the phrase was related to his vision intensifier, which was surgically implanted over his blind eye by the surgeons of the Cornerian Army. He had actually gotten away with it when he had returned to Earth, just saying that it was some new kind of experimental device for making people see again if they were blind on one or both eyes, as was the case with his blind left eye, which – thanks to the device – could see now, and could also utilize some rather nifty auto-aiming features and different sight modes, which were also built into the device to aid him in battle; night-vision, infra-red and precision targeting being a few examples.

As the Arwing took off, Jakob felt excited, knowing that he would soon be in the company of some of his intergalactic friends again… and maybe also Mikki and John, if they had been called for as well. But as Fox appeared on the small screen in his Arwing and began explaining the current situation to him, Ghost instinctively focused his mind on the mission.

---

After he had sent the message to the three Arwings about why they had been picked up, Fox stood calmly on the bridge of the Great Fox, watching the three bleeps on the radar approach the ship. The silence in the triangular room was almost tangible, so unspoiled was it when one excluded the occasional small blips from an instrument, signalling that everything was all right and that it functioned correctly. And the very same instruments provided the eerily pale green luminescence, which seemed to envelop the lone entity on the bridge, giving his sharp and furred features an unsettling look. For instance the prominent muzzle, which protruded sharply from his rather pointed head, encased by wondrous, almost golden, fur. His viridian eyes surveyed the surrounding area warily, and curiously enough, the colour of his eyes seemed to complement his outfit nicely. Fox was clad in his official synthetic Team Star Fox-uniform, the rubbery cladding completely viridian in colour except from the shoulder segment, which was coloured a bright red just as his boots, the Star Fox-team's insignia being present in white against the red backdrop. What was also white in this outfit was the light flak armour vest on top of his uniform, and the flexible synthetic gloves that encased his hands.

But although he looked calm, he was beginning to feel more and more worried by the minute. All sorts of thoughts were swarming around in his head, and the golden-furred vulpine took the time to read the situation report, which General Pepper had sent them, one more time. And as he did, the mentioning of a name in the report – the name of an organization about which he had heard nothing for a long time – made him shiver slightly.

In his mind, as he silently watched the three fighter signatures come closer and closer on the radar, Fox began to wonder if he had unwittingly sent G-Wing to their doom.


	3. Chp 1: Stepping out on the Red Carpet

**Chapter 1: Stepping out on the Red Carpet**

From Fox's log: _Well, G-Wing is about to land. And feelings are fighting within me. On the one hand, happiness because they return. On the other hand, desperation because of our enemy, at least if what Pepper writes in the report is true. I'll make some copies and pass them out to the team when they arrive on the bridge, along with Pepper's files about new weapon updates for the fleet._

"Arwing signatures detected. Should I open the hangar doors?" ROB asked monotonously, the glowing orbs of crimson, which were his optical units, fixating themselves enquiringly at Fox.

"Yeah, ROB, you do that," Fox said wearily, too busy prevailing in his inner conflict that he did not really give the outside world much attention.

"Affirmative," the Star Fox Team's faithful droid replied, and a couple of seconds afterwards, the three Arwings disappeared from sight on the bridge as they flew into the hangar.

Fox still stood there, not moving, calmly staring into the pitch-black void of space, trying to quench the flames of the feelings fighting within him. On the one hand, his feeling was that of joy, because the three humans had shown a greater display of valour and skill when they were in Lylat than any other Lylatian soldier he knew, so on that front, he knew they would be an asset to the team. On the other hand, his mind was constantly nagged by that name of the organization, which was mentioned in Pepper's recon report. It was a persistent and resilient enemy, with which Lylat had been struggling since the days of Fox's legendary father, James McCloud, and as such, Fox was truly desperate, for if his father's unwavering resolve and valour could not bring down this enemy, what difference would three humans from an entirely different solar system make?

"_Rest in peace, father!"_ Fox thought respectfully, as he was reminded of one of his now deceased parents. His father had taken up arms against this enemy, but it had become his untimely demise due to a treacherous and pitiful creature on his team, Pigma Dengar, who would remain eternally cursed in Fox's memory, even though he had almost single-handedly destroyed Pigma's wretched and mutated form for good during the Aparoid Invasion seven months ago.

Fox was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not move, until a pair of hands laid themselves softly upon his shoulders from behind. He turned his head a little to see that they were covered with blue fur, and that meant that it could only be one person: Krystal. Fox had been so lost in his thoughts that he had not heard her approaching. And right he was, for the next moment she spoke into his ear with her melodious accented voice.

"What's the matter, Fox? You look so grave and tense, even despite the wonderful fact that G-Wing is returning to help us again after a month out of duty. What's wrong, my love?" she asked him compassionately. Fox turned around fully, so that he could look her in the eye, her hands still resting upon his shoulders.

As his own green eyes met her exceptionally lustrous emerald stare, the brave vulpine mercenary was again taken aback by the sheer beauty of the young cerulean vixen before him. Not only just her eyes, but her entire slender and rightly proportioned frame, covered with the unusually coloured cerulean fur, which had made her quite an eye-opener to anyone who saw her for the first time. Her lissom figure was further accentuated by the standard Team Star Fox uniform she wore, its aquamarine and black synthetic cladding nicely complementing her fur. Krystal emanated her own special kind of mysterious and exotic beauty, and Fox was thrilled to the core of his very being by the fact that she had now been a full-fledged member of the team for one year and a half, having proved her uncanny deftness and acuity on several occasions in the field. Furthermore, another fact contributed to Fox's unspoken joy; a fact which he kept very much to himself. The fact that their relationship had flourished as rapidly as it had during the course of the past seven months, despite the sudden coming of their earthly friends in a time of crisis.

"I'll tell you what's wrong," he finally said, after staring into her emerald eyes for some time, trying to come to a decision with himself about whether or not he should involve the love of his life in his own, private worries.

"The fact that they're even returning! At first, when looking at what we were facing, I knew that we couldn't do it by ourselves. We needed help. And that's when Pepper suggested bringing in G-Wing. I was in favour of the idea when I heard it, because I knew how many very difficult missions that they had handled, but when I think about it now, I begin to have my doubts about whether this enemy is too much for them."

Krystal placed a hand reassuringly upon his cheek, stroking it gently, "Don't think those thoughts, Fox," she said softly, "I've sensed them in you lately, and they're just foolish and self-destructive. It's no good blaming yourself that way. Those thoughts aren't good for you. They'll just eat you up. I could never get myself to doubt G-Wing's abilities, let alone their loyalty, at least after working with Jakob for as long as I have. Just because they're humans doesn't necessarily mean that they will have a harder time taking on an opponent, with which Lylat has been struggling for almost a decade now. Who knows, maybe they'll even be the turning point in this eternal battle. I think they will. How about you?"

Fox lowered his head a bit and stood silent for a long time, trying to take in the essence of what Krystal had just told him. Maybe she was right. Maybe the fact that they were humans made them think in other ways that the Lylatians did, and as such, they could come up with new means to end the ongoing conflict. However, his other negative self nagged him, if the Lylatians were not able to end the crisis after a decade of fighting, what difference would three humans make? In the end, Fox silenced his two mental voices with a sudden burst of resolve, as he came to a decision with his heart and logical sense, and not his brain. Slowly, he raised his head and looked at Krystal, a warm smile on his muzzle.

"You're right, Krys. You're always right," he said contently, "Of course they'll help us. And be good at it at that. After all, they were here for six months, and in all that time, I never saw finer soldiers than them."

In response to this, Krystal laughed joyfully, then leant forward and kissed Fox softly, "I'm going to go to bed, my love. I'll just take a little nap. Wake me up over the intercom when they're on the bridge, okay? There's someone I would very much like to say hello to again!" she said with a grin.

"You got it, Krys! And I'll let him know you're looking for him. Sleep tight!" Fox said, waving to the cerulean vixen, the love of his life, as she turned around and headed for her room further down the main corridor of the Great Fox.

---

The very second that the three Arwings had landed in the hangar of the Great Fox and disengaged their engines, the cockpits of the three fighters opened. A figure jumped out of one of the Arwings and landed smoothly on the floor. He immediately stood up and looked around energetically. He was sleek and thin and wore a characteristic cap with the Kamikaze-symbol on his head.

"Where's my equipment, man? And where are the others? No welcoming committee! That's too frigging low! I expected to be stepping out on the red carpet, but does it look like it's there? Nooo!" John shouted impatiently, constantly letting his gaze sweep around the hangar.

"Hey, cool it, dude!" another voice said from one of the other fighters before Mikki jumped out and went to Saber. He took a long, deep sniff of the air.

"Just take a deep breath and let the smell fill your nose. Can you smell it? The Great Fox hangar! Man, I love it. It smells like… ownage!" Shield said enthusiastically, beaming contently. In his mind, he had come to consider the Great Fox his second home, and now that he was here, he felt a kind of serenity befall his soul, as if he were in a sacred place, where he could do as he pleased along with his friends, far away from earthly strife and trouble.

"Yeah, it certainly is nice to be back again… and it certainly is hot here, also! Coming from the chilling autumn on Earth to the well-tempered hangar on the Great Fox, it's no wonder that the shift in temperature feels so remarkable," Jakob said joyfully, as he stepped closer to the two after disembarking his Arwing. He unzipped his brown leather jacket, revealing a black shirt underneath, and flung the jacket across his left arm, where he carried it.

"Nice to see you, guys!" he said, and they all exchanged high-fives, before walking towards the control room, where they presumed that the others would be waiting. On the way, they talked about this and that, different things that had happened on Earth, to them, and so on; the idle chatter acting as a sort of sedative for them to suppress the slightly tense feeling of expectation that each of them felt weighing down their gut like a massive chunk of iron lodged deep within their bodies. And their assumption about the others waiting for them in the control room proved to be correct, for as the newly reformed Team G-Wing stepped through the door to the bridge, they saw the familiar faces of Fox, Falco, Peppy and Slippy turned expectantly towards the door to the bridge, smiling widely as the threesome entered.

Jakob stepped forward and saluted Fox and the others respectfully with his right hand, the one not holding his jacket, "Team G-Wing, Shield, Saber and Ghost, reporting for duty!" He paused, and then added after a while, "Or Mikki, John and Jakob, if you like it that way!"

Fox looked at him with a wry smile before saluting him back, "Whatever you say is good enough, Ghost! It's nice to have you guys back!" he said happily and saluted again to answer Mikki's respectful salute. Shield then came to Fox and greeted him like an old friend, receiving a friendly pat on the shoulder in return.

Meanwhile, John was occupied with throwing hand-signs all over the place as he walked up to Falco and stopped right in front of him with a cold, self-controlled, "'Sup, dude?"

There had always been a strong rivalry between John and Falco ever since Team G-Wing was formed seven months ago; not a rivalry out of animosity, but out of coolness. They both believed that each of them was the coolest person in Lylat, and the one would certainly not let the other be cooler.

The avian with the strangely iridescent aquamarine feathers eyed Saber with an ice-cold stare and said airily, "Oh, nothing special, really. How about you, cap-boy?" whereupon he rubbed Saber's cap around on his head.

"Hey, cut it out, you frigging moron!" John shouted indignantly, albeit with a smile on his face. Falco stopped, and then he also began to grin mischievously, giving Saber a high-five.

Fox watched all this with a humorous glint in his eyes, before switching the intercom on and saying calmly into it, "Krys, someone's here to see you!" Jakob, who had been talking to Peppy and Slippy about the newest additions to the Lylatian star maps onboard since G-Wing had been gone, turned his head as he heard the name of his trusted friend mentioned.

"Oh yeah, Fox, I actually meant to ask you where you had hidden Krystal when we came in," he said jokingly.

Fox smiled before replying, "Before you guys came, she decided to go and take a nap. I presume she was pretty tired. And no wonder, she stayed up until very late yesterday night, scanning the star maps for signs of incoming craft. Why, I have no idea! Maybe she was looking for you?"

Fox shrugged, as if to deny his own question, lowered his voice so that the loud talking in the room muffled it a bit, and looked Ghost sincerely in the eye, "She's been worried sick about you, Ghost. You know that, right? She always said that Earth held its own dangers, and that she hoped with all her might that you wouldn't get caught up in one of them."

Jakob nodded, remembering the overly caring nature of the cerulean vixen. She never wanted anyone she liked and knew to get hurt, no matter how far away they were from her. And as such, his only answer to Fox was that of confirmation.

"Yeah. I could easily imagine. After all, we've served together for six months and saved each other in the nick of time on several occasions, so I've become a second part of her… well, sort of. It's only natural, really," he admitted before continuing with a wry grin upon his face, "She leaves a lasting impression, Krystal, she really does. And I just hope that the promise she gave me before we parted, about our friendship not being terminated, still holds."

Before he could say anymore, a wondrously melodic voice answered him from behind with an accent that was as British as his own, a voice which he knew full well: Krystal's voice, "Don't worry. It still holds. And you know that it always will."

Ghost turned around to face the door to the bridge where the voice was coming from, expecting to see his Cerinian friend standing in the doorway, "Krystal! It's so nice to see you agai… _hmph_!" As he had turned while he spoke, he saw only a blur of cerulean fur before the rest of his sentence was abruptly stopped, as Krystal threw herself onto him in a hug that nearly knocked all the wind out of him. He had in fact expected a rather emotional welcome from the young vixen, but not something like this.

"Hey… hey! Easy there, my friend!" Jakob said softly to her while patting her rather awkwardly on the back, meaning for her to lessen the force in her squeeze. She did so, but not much; she was still holding him pretty tightly.

"Why was it that I never doubted your return, in spite of all my worries?" Krystal whispered happily into his ear, stroking his back affectionately. With the return of her true and trusted friend, she felt it as if she were reunited with a long-lost and very dear relative, who meant very much to her, and whom she had not seen in a long time.

"Hmm… I don't know. Perhaps because you know me well enough to be sure that I'll always be here when a crisis arises, just like now?" Ghost asked her with his distinctive British accent, which only provoked a quiet, pleasant laughter from Krystal. As she withdrew from the hug, she looked him sincerely in the eye with her own emerald ones.

"It's good to have you back again, Jakob. It really is!" she stated sincerely, and he gave her a joyful grin in return. Krystal then proceeded to Mikki and John, giving each of them a hug, too, and asking about their well-being. When everyone had finally gotten past the formalities, Fox took over authoritatively.

"Well, now that everyone is happily reunited and reacquainted," Fox said, a wide smile on his face – he was also glad on Krystal's behalf – "I think we can proceed to the more demanding matters at hand. Namely the reason why we sent for you, Team G-Wing!" From a nearby table, he took three blue and three green files. He passed one of each out to Mikki, John and Jakob respectively, who immediately began flipping through them interestedly while Fox spoke.

"The green one is our mission briefing as General Pepper has laid it out to us, word-perfect, down to every last word. His exact statement. The blue one is a research file with blueprints, schematics and details about new and possible weapon upgrades for the Cornerian Fleet and Army. Pepper wants you to go through them, and asks if you have any ideas for enhancement or comments about these ideas in general. He wants you to report to the bridge tomorrow at eleven o'clock sharp. Is everyone clear?"

As if it were a demonstration of how well the team fitted together, all three G-Wing-members simultaneously jerked their heads up from the files and answered Fox with a synchronic "Sir, yes sir!" before they engrossed themselves in the files again.

Suddenly, Mikki noticed who their enemy was, as he had found the page with the hazy recon photos of their capital ships taken by the satellite from the Cornerian Army. The slim, khaki-coloured structure of the ships was only found in one place in Lylat.

"Oh man!" he whispered to himself, and nudged the other two in their sides, "Dudes, you'd better take a look at this!" They flipped to the appropriate page in their own files, and as they saw it, their eyes widened in astonishment.

Fox saw their reactions and nodded to himself; he had anticipated that reaction. "Yes, now you see what we're facing. We don't know if it's too much for you, but…" And this was where Fox was put off completely, for the next thing that happened had never struck him as a possible outcome of seeing their enemy, even in his wildest dreams:

A small chuckle started to erupt from Mikki, and this was followed shortly afterwards by John and Jakob. They all three just stood there chuckling for a moment, almost grunting with laughter, trying to hold it in, until they could not take it anymore and exploded into paroxysms of violent laughter. The fit of laughter was so profound that the threesome had to lean against each other to stand upright. From his position hunched over Ghost's shoulder, which was not a very stable choice to lean against since it was also trembling because of the laughter, Saber turned his head to face Fox and the others, his face distorted by the wild laughter.

"You're… you're…" John stammered out, and had trouble proceeding because he was caught in yet another fit of laughter, but as it cleared, he continued, "You're pitting us against the fucking… Venomian Remnant?" he asked in wild disbelief.

But the disbelief only lasted for the shortest of moments, before the laughter overtook him again. Fox and his crew looked wide-eyed and concernedly at each other, convinced that something had snapped within the minds of the three. Jakob tapped Mikki on the shoulder and gestured towards the recon photo, towards some turrets on the Venomian capital ship.

"And they've got… And they've… Oh my God!" he stuttered out from between laughs, tears of laughter rolling down his face, "And they've got those little sissy long-range laser beams!" he finally shouted out, bursting into a renewed fit of laughter.

"I… I know!" Shield shouted back, not in control of the pitch of his own voice, before he also began to laugh uncontrollably one more time. As the laughter and the tears caused by this subsided, Team G-Wing found Team Star Fox staring at them worriedly.

John stepped forward, a big and wide smile on his face. The only reason for this seemingly inexplicable surge of laughter was that Team G-Wing had only encountered the Venomians in games, where they were an unbelievably easy opponent, their ships seeming to fall apart at even the tiniest hint of a grazing shot. And as such, when they were suddenly confronted by the very same enemy in the flesh under official circumstances in a far-away solar system, the game-presented impressions were the only experience with the Venomians that they could fall back on, thus automatically labelling them as a frail and pathetic adversary.

"Hey, relax dudes! It's not like we're insane or anything, if that's what you think. But, Fox… these guys are total pushovers, man! I mean, you could blow air at their capital ships, and they would fall apart like cardboard! Something must be seriously wrong with you Lylatians, since it took you ten years to reduce them to what they are now!" Saber said wonderingly, shaking his head softly in mild disbelief.

"Well, let's see if we can come up with something overnight, shall we, guys?" Ghost cut through authoritatively, "I, for one, will be studying these files, both tonight and tomorrow before we report. What you choose to do, Shield and Saber, is entirely up to you, but I would highly recommend you – no, actually, as your commander I order you – to read them, at least so you've got a basic understanding of who and what we're up against, and so you can say something clever to Pepper tomorrow about the weapons!"

"Yeah, forget about the weapons and the science, dude!" John said defiantly, yawning widely, "That's always been your department. But I'm fresh on the briefing. And man, I'm getting tired! It was kind of a long trip here. Do you guys have a pad I can crash in?" he asked rather informally, looking at Fox with an expression, which was openly hazy with tiredness. It was clear that, if he did not find a bed soon, he would do something rash and uncontrollable. In his mind, Saber could also feel the tiredness overwhelm him and cloud his senses and thoughts, like a massive tidal wave or an obscuring mist.

"I'd really like to know where our rooms are, also! I'm getting pretty wasted by all this new stuff," Mikki said, clearly in favour of the idea, as he, too, suppressed a yawn.

"It's down the main corridor, and into the first branch you see on the left. The first three rooms. And they've even got name tags on them, so you can tell the difference. Well, actually those were made to guide us, as we had to load your equipment into your rooms respectively before you came. We wouldn't want Mikki to end up with John's or Jakob's equipment, now would we? But seriously, I think they're cool!" Fox said, smiling proudly.

The two teams then wished each other a pleasant goodnight and G-Wing started to walk off with their files. That is, Saber tried to walk, but his entire being was weakened by the continual pressure of tiredness and fatigue, which the new experiences of the day had induced in him, so he just took some steps forwards confusedly, and then stood staring blankly into the distance, completely confused by tiredness. Krystal knew his situation full well after the few times she had tried releasing a Krazoa spirit. Such an act induced a great deal of tiredness in one's body, even to the point of severe mental weakening.

Feeling her good heart and kind nature kick in once again, the cerulean vixen hurried to John's side and grabbed him firmly by the arm. He violently jerked his head to the side to see who it was.

"Hey, relax John! It's just me, Krystal." she said comfortingly to him, and he nodded vaguely in response, his gaze hazy with tiredness.

"Looks like we need to find you a bed, eh, my friend?" Krystal said benignly, before gently pulling him along by the arm, Saber following with small, insecure steps. Krystal needed to guide him almost all the way. "Come on, keep walking. I've got you… That's it… It's just through here…"

---

As Mikki stepped through the door to his room, the first three things he eyed were his Gatling gun, rocket launcher and bed, in that order. To him, they represented the essence of his life in Lylat. He smiled happily as he let his gaze sweep across the room, which was a basic room at the Great Fox, meaning that the furniture and layout, which was present here, did not deviate a bit from what was found in the other rooms.

Eyeing the recliner and couch, which were set up for comfort, Shield finally let his gaze settle upon the table and shelves with his equipment – vest, camouflage pants, boots, grenades and weapons – at the other end of the room. Now they no longer needed to go to the armoury when they had to equip themselves for an upcoming mission, apparently. With that, he changed into his night clothes and went to bed with a heavy snoring.

---

"There we go! This is your room, right here!" Krystal said soothingly to John as she let go of his arm just outside the door. John turned his head towards the young vixen and smiled a weak smile.

"Thanks, Krys!" he whispered sleepily, "Goodnight and sleep tight!" To this, Krystal chuckled a bit in amusement, before reaching out and letting a finger trace the place on his cheek where he had gotten a rather nasty wound during their mission to the jungle planet Orakar 5 to save some Cerinians named Erena and Qatou, who now stayed on Corneria. Krystal had helped him bandage the wound. She was rather surprised, as she felt almost nothing.

"Hmm. Your scar from Orakar 5 has almost healed. Fantastic! You must be a lot stronger than we think. Goodnight, mighty warrior!" she said softly, before turning and heading towards her own room.

John walked wobbly into his own room, not caring at all about the shelves with Ragetooth, his blaster and his mission outfit, or the nice furniture. He just steered for the bed, onto which he collapsed head first, sleeping instantly.

---

Slowly, Jakob let his hand run over his trenchcoat, battledress, boots, blasters and SMGs, and the energy cells for his weapons, trying to take in the feel of every item. He would probably get to examine them closer in the morning, but for now it was nice to know that everything he needed to stay alive in the Lylat System, and everything that let him be Ghost, so to speak, was there.

Judging from the meticulous way, in which the equipment had been organized on the shelves and the table, it was easy to believe without a doubt that it was Krystal who had organized it for him. This was evidenced by the cerulean fur hair, which his vision intensifier picked up. It was lying on the table, and as he saw it, Jakob could not help but smile contently.

As he changed his clothes and hung his brown leather jacket on a hook in a corner since he would not need it right away, Ghost sent a thought of thankfulness to Krystal as he laid himself in the warm, comfortable bed, the mission briefing in his hand, _"Thank you so much, Krystal! See you tomorrow!" _

Jakob then engrossed himself in the mission file, fully aware that Krystal was a telepath.

---

"_You're quite welcome, my dear friend! And we will see each other tomorrow, I'm sure,"_ Krystal thought to herself as she heard Jakob's words resonate in her mind. Then, she nuzzled closer to Fox under the bed sheets, feeling his warm fur brush against hers. That feeling gave her a sense of security, of safety from harm, the very same feeling that Fox induced in his crewmembers when he was around. And she would stick by Fox and love him for eternity. She had made that pledge to herself. Even if Solar went nova and all the stars in Lylat faded, the two foxes would stand by each other's side, forever united by the bond of universal love, almost as if it were foretold by destiny itself.

But as Fox gently kissed her muzzle, and started what would become yet another passionate night for the two, Krystal could not get the thought out of her head that Jakob had finally returned. For all those times, when everything seemed desperate and there was seemingly no way out of the never-ending black maze of sorrow, she also had a friend to stand by her side.

A trusted and true friend who – in addition to having saved her life innumerable times, done countless favours for her, and displayed amazing valour and sense of protection for her when she had been in need – also possessed an unusually cool and calm demeanour, not to mention a logical and keen insight in emotions, feelings and events, which made him a truly remarkable individual to know, because he could sort out almost any nagging problem, which tore on her soul and willpower and was too difficult for her to explain – he had already proved that before the Orakar 5 mission almost a month ago. And this ability let him shine like one of the brightest stars in her mind.

As she thought about Ghost, her friend from Earth, the cerulean vixen could not help but smile happily. She was glad – to the innermost depths of her soul she was glad – that she had gotten to know him and be assigned with him during the six months that G-Wing had been in the Lylat System. He provided strong emotional support for her, being a fierce and valorous, but on the other hand caring, intelligent and understanding person to know. And now, it seemed, he had also become an inseparable part of her.

And at that place, at that moment, Krystal swore an oath to herself. In return for all that he had done for her during Team G-Wing's first stay, she considered this pledge the least she could do for him: She would never let Jakob die in an act of carelessness from her side, or, if it did happen, never leave his death un-avenged.

Not now. Not ever.


	4. Chp 2: To the Stars

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Well, as a start, I'd like to give all the people who have reviewed this story so far a big and heartfelt thank you for their kind and encouraging reviews. These great individuals are: **knightcommander**, **DarthVenom2**, **GamerJay**, **s57,** **OrangeKat** and **Ice Fox 111**. I'll try to return the favour as soon as I get the chance, which may prove to be a little difficult with homework, friends and writing my own story taking up quite a large percentage of my available spare time. But sooner or later, I'll get around to it, so just keep your spirits up, people! ;-) Perhaps... another chapter of CtA could help shorten the wait? Oh well, since we've reached the time for the two-week update anyway, let's go! Hope you like it.

**Chapter 2: To the Stars**

From lieutenant John (Saber)'s log: _Day 1 after return: Man, it feels so good to be back again! And I've met Falco and given him the impression that the battle about being the coolest person in Lylat still goes on. And if he thinks he's winning, he'd better start thinking again!_

_And what's more, we're preparing to move out against the Venomian Remnant soon. Oh, are they in for a butt-kicking! Those guys are so easy, it's unbelievable. Well, let's wait and see who'll get the most kills… That's right: Me!_

From commander Jakob (Ghost)'s log: _08:54, Lylatian Standard Time. Being back again has awoken something within me, which lay dormant while I was on Earth. And I am not yet fully aware of what it is: A feeling of relaxation, of safety, but also that of logical sense, reasoning, and commitment and obligation to those in need of it. I think it is just my "commander-self" that is slowly beginning to materialize again. And it is truly a great comfort to know that I have the friends around me that I need._

_Shield and Saber are some of the finest individuals that I have ever had the luck and fortune to meet, and they certainly are different from the average population on Earth. That is why I enjoy sharing these experiences with them to the core of my very soul. _

_But also, next time I look at the stars back on Earth, I should remind myself that I am not alone out there, either. Team Star Fox, should you ever read these notes, let there be no doubt in your minds that I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done. Know that I treasure your friendship very highly and will do my utmost to not let it waste away. That friendship is one of the greatest gifts, which have ever been bestowed on me. Thank you!_

From sergeant Mikki (Shield)'s log: _Oh yeah! I'm back and it's good! Heck, judging from the way Fox greeted me yesterday, I've been pretty much missed here onboard the Great Fox. And no wonder! Their number one demolition man and heavy weapons expert was out for some time, so who could they count on to destroy all those nasty enemies that suddenly popped up? No-one… because that's my job. And I like it! Shield's back in action, enemy-dudes, so you'd better watch your six!_

The teams briefly met each other again at nine o'clock for breakfast the next day, but they retired back to their rooms again just as fast; they had a lot of reading to do, and in some cases – such as John's and Falco's – some more sleeping.

But when the time reached half past ten, Peppy, Slippy and Krystal, who were gathered at the bridge, expected to see Jakob walk in like he always did half an hour before they were due to report. And when another five minutes passed, they started to wonder where he was.

"This isn't like him!" Krystal mumbled worriedly, "He's always on time, precisely on the minute. I'll go and check. Just stay here!"

"You got it!" Peppy replied, "And don't worry, young lady. He's probably just dozed off again. That's perfectly normal!"

Krystal sent him a weak smile before she turned around resolutely and walked down the main corridor. As she went, all sorts of disturbing and uncomfortable thoughts were racing through her head. What if something had happened to him during the night? Would she be able to help him? It troubled her that he had not met at the time that he used to, for in all the time she had known him, Ghost had never skipped a meeting. And he was always so very exact about his time. So it was with a blue-furred hand, which trembled slightly in silent horror of what she might find or uncover, that the cerulean vixen knocked at the door to Jakob's room.

"Yeah?" his voice said enquiringly from inside the room. Krystal heaved a deep sigh of relief as she heard him – at least he was alive – said that it was her, and entered through the door as Ghost said "Come in!"

He sat in the recliner, dressed in his grey battledress and military boots, his feet on the table, and a tall glass of hot and newly made Lylatian tea also on the table, within reach. He sat with the weapon schematics-file in one of his hands; a pen was in the other, and he moved it carefully around on the page, not writing anything, merely pointing various things out to himself.

"_So this is how he works!"_ Krystal thought to herself, smiling vaguely. She had heard many results from his famed processes of deduction, but never before in their entire time together had she gotten an opportunity to see one being performed "live", so she was understandably very amused by the sight. This idle scanning of the document continued for some time, and Krystal was silently beginning to wonder if he had really paid her entering his sequestered abode any mind to start with. But finally, Jakob threw both file and pen onto the table with a frustrated sigh, leaned forwards and took a sip of his tea, rubbing his forehead with an expression on his face that evidenced a slight headache. When he had put the glass of tea back on the table, he eyed the young vixen standing in his doorway conspicuously.

"Hey Krys!" he said, using her nickname for one of the first times that he could remember. To him, it was something best reserved for Team Star Fox, who knew her much better than he did and spent every single day with her. Ever since they had been teamed up, Ghost had always found it more comnforting to say "Krystal" instead of "Krys". "Krys" sounded so informal, so insincere to begin with. But this time, since they had spent so much time together after all and had gotten to know each other quite well in the course of Team G-Wing's first stay in Lylat, Jakob thought himself to be past these formalities. And as such, strongly inspired by Fox and the others, he decided to give her nickname a try. And it seemed that the young Cerinian did not mind it in the least, for she only gave a wry grin in return. Furrowing his brow in noticeable confusion, he asked her about her reason for suddenly appearing in his doorway, "Have you come to check on the progress of a slow mind? One, which unfortunately doesn't hold sway over the arcane secrets of the universe, and one which gets so embarrasingly stuck in a seemingly simple enough calculation? Why would you even bother to befriend someone like me in the first place, Krystal?" he asked her tiredly, albeit also clearly jokingly, smiling wryly.

"Well, you didn't show up at the bridge five minutes ago, like you normally do half an hour before we report. I suspected something was not right with you, and I decided to come and check, since Mikki and John weren't there so I could ask them to do it for me. You're always so exact about the time, so I began to worry. What's wrong?" she asked concernedly, stepping closer.

"I'll tell you: This!" he said, picking up the file and the pen again. Krystal went behind his recliner and folded her arms on the top of the chair, supported her chin on her folded arms and looked over his shoulder at the file, her tail flicking slowly back and forth. The file was opened at the page about the new energy shields, which were to be implanted in the Arwings and cruisers of the Cornerian Army, following the devastating strike on the outer defence group of Corneria, orchestrated by Krystal's maniacal – and now deceased – brother, Reevo, killed by her own hand.

Krystal remembered the incident with her psychopathic brother all too clearly; although it was a month ago, the mental scars were still there, terrorizing her without end, and the true horror of the atrocities, which Reevo had committed, laid themselves over her normally fond memories of him like a black, contorting veil. _"But this is no time to dwell at the terrors of yesterday,"_ Krystal thought determinedly, before focusing on the situation now.

"See those numbers here?" Jakob said, pointing with his pen at some specifications under the blueprint of the shield battery for the Arwings, "They should represent the shield strength. But I just don't get it! You see, Krystal, a shield's strength is normally given in Mega-Watt, and they also normally do so in the Cornerian military, but here we have 286 Mega-Joule, dispersed over 53 seconds per charge. That doesn't make any sense! I've made some corrections in the paragraphs before, concerning their heavy pulse- and plasma-based weapons and their particle acceleration, but this completely eludes me. That was my reason for not coming at the time I used to. I had to crack this one, and I've been staring at it for hours, but I can't seem to find a solution. One wonders if the complexity of this calculation might indeed be as profound and astounding as it seemingly appears to be," the loquacious commander mumbled contemplatively, albeit still with a hint of his characteristic eloquence in his spoken musings.

Krystal eyed the numbers for a moment, before the answer formed itself in her sharp mind, like a jigsaw fitting together. She had learned her share of physics since she came to the Great Fox, and this was one of the first things she had learned, "Just convert it!" she simply said, as if it were no big deal, which – indeed – it was not.

"I beg your pardon?" Ghost said amazedly and questioningly, turning his head to look at the cerulean vixen while arching an eyebrow in surprise about her undeniable celerity of mind. The Cerinian smiled forbearingly at her friend's bafflement before elaborating.

"Just convert the Joule into Watt. You have all the information that you need; the amount of Joule and the time over which they're dispersed."

Jakob looked from her to the numbers, studying them carefully once more, and then the truth dawned upon him, "Of course! We have 286 Mega-Joule dispersed over 53 seconds…" he said, scribbling furiously in the file with his pen to remember his corrections.

"And Watt equals Joule per second…!" Krystal chimed in eagerly, snatching the pen from his hand without warning and continuing the calculation with her own scribble.

"And then we only have to… Krystal, my pen!" he laughed, as the blue-furred vixen continued scribbling away at the calculation, totally absorbed in the process of solving it. She suddenly stopped and handed him his pen with an apologetic smile. He continued, "We only have to divide these two numbers, Joule with seconds, to get the shield strength in Mega-Watt. And that equals…"

They both fell silent for a moment, calculating the answer in their heads. And then, as a proof of the perfect synergy that existed between the young human and the cerulean vixen, Jakob and Krystal simultaneously snapped their fingers, looked at each other and shouted, "18, 6 Mega-Watt!"

In the ensuing silence of the joy that had arisen after solving this irritating problem, Ghost eyed their result uncomprehendingly as he stood up from his chair, the pen and file still in his hand, scribbling and calculating other problems of the same type, as he and Krystal went to the bridge, ten minutes before their report was due.

"What a ridiculously small amount of shielding for an Arwing! They should rather augment it to around 80 Mega-Watt or so. And what a ridiculous way to write the shield strength. We need to tell Pepper to really keep an eye on his scientists, to avoid these situations in the future!" Jakob said, finishing another calculation.

"That won't be necessary. He can just employ us to do their job!" Krystal answered, nudging him in the side as they both laughed heartily.

---

"Hey, Mikki, have you seen any of the others when you came just before?" Peppy asked Shield, who had entered the bridge some minutes ago. The sergeant shook his head in response, not understanding the others' absence himself. Well, he thought, John's absence was no mystery; he almost always overslept, even when they had a critical mission briefing from Pepper awaiting them. But Jakob and the rest of the Star Fox-crew were always on time, just like Fox, who had been there for about ten minutes.

"Well, I don't doubt that Krystal and the others will come soon, but if John's late again, I'll have Pepper demote him! That's just purely impudent!" Fox murmured irritably as Falco entered the bridge through the door.

"Hey! Who're you calling impudent!" the aquamarine-feathered avian said indignantly as he entered, always getting the impression that every negative remark was minted upon him, because of his unfortunately rather large ego. Receiving nothing but a dismissing wave from Fox in reply, meaning for him to let it slip, Falco grumbled an inarticulate "Whatever!" and sat down in his chair, tapping his feet impatiently. The avian could never get enough action, and this situation was what he hated the most; being stuck onboard a boring carrier with nothing to do except to eat, read, sleep or train while waiting for Pepper to give them another assignment.

The ensuing silence from Falco's disapproving exclamation was broken when two voices could be heard talking loudly outside the door, both of them with distinctive British accents. As the voices grew stronger and approached the bridge, the listeners on the bridge were plunged into the middle of an ongoing conversation.

"… must've been staring at those numbers for too long, since I couldn't see how simple it was. That sometimes happens, you know," Jakob said in a moralizing way, and Krystal responded with an affirmative "Yeah!", before the human and the Cerinian stepped through the door and found their seats, Krystal at the front of the triangular-shaped bridge where the five Team Star Fox-seats were grouped, and Ghost slightly in the back next to Mikki, whom he gave a high-five and a joyful smile, before noticing the empty seat next to the two.

Jakob just hoped that John could get a move on with whatever he was doing, for if one of them was missing when Pepper appeared on the holo-screen, it would surely damage their otherwise stainless reputation a bit. Team G-Wing was noted among the Cornerian Army Command for always being on time for briefings and never skipping a meeting. Oh well, Ghost thought with a careless shrug, whatever was to happen would happen, no matter how hard he tried to alter the course of things. He just had to take it as it came.

Realizing that there were only five minutes left before they were due to report, Jakob suddenly rose from his chair and shouted out, "Slip! Catch!" whereupon he threw the weapon-schematics-file across the room. It whirled through the air in a seemingly uncontrollable spin until it landed right before Slippy's feet. The amphibian picked up the file and looked enquiringly at Ghost.

"Copy it, and send the copy to Pepper, if you would. There are a lot of corrections in there, and I feel more comfortable if he also has a file to look at," Jakob said concisely, leaning back in his chair again, knowing that the true purpose of this rather impulsive act would come forth during the briefing. But for now, he just needed Slippy to know the essentials.

"You got it!" the duty-ready amphibian exclaimed energetically before inserting the file into a slit in the control panel. He then began typing various commands on the keyboard, and the hum of scanner-machinery could be heard as the electronic equipment within the multi-functional control panel scanned every page and sent it as an electronic impulse to Corneria via a satellite network, to be printed out at Pepper's office.

Just in the nick of time, one minute before Pepper contacted the teams, the door to the bridge opened, and John shambled in slowly and unsteadily. He had apparently changed his clothes from the day before, since he was now clad in his standard black uniform, cap and T-shirt, but without his vest or weapons. Not even offering a wave in return to his team-mates as they greeted him, Saber simply plumped down in his seat, exhaling loudly.

"So… tired!" he mumbled inarticulately, and started staring vacantly at the holo-screen. His eyes were open, giving the impression at first glance that he was awake, but when one looked deeper into them, it was as if an invisible and impenetrable barrier had been erected between his eyes and his soul, for there was no life in them. The vivid and distinctive flame of determination, which John always seemed to carry in his eyes, was completely extinguished now due to tiredness.

And this was maybe not the best time to sport such an expression, for at this moment, the holo-screen lit up with a white flash, almost as if it were a portal to a godly realm. But then, when the initial start-up flash died down, the two teams could clearly see the aged face of the canine General Pepper look directly at them.

It was obvious to the eye that the last years of continual crisis in Lylat had taken their toll on the already aged canine. Pepper's earth-brown fur jutted out from his face irregularly, and a net of wrinkles had materialized itself upon his face, making him look even older than he had done when Team G-Wing first saw him. Pepper was still clad in his ruby-red General's uniform adorned with extravagant golden ribbons, but his figure had become slightly more hunched, and his floppy ears did not fall as straight along the sides of his head as they used to; they were also a bit more curled. But in his eyes, the determination and spirit of war, which is often felt in the company of seasoned war-veterans, still remained as an almost visible flame or glow, giving him just the right authoritative radiance, which had made him famous – and feared – throughout the Lylat System. He let his calm gaze settle upon the three humans at the back of the bridge and saluted them; a gesture which they all answered respectfully, except John who, because of his tiredness, only made a small wave from the side of his head before staring vacantly into the distance again.

"Team G-Wing", Pepper said solemnly in his rather hoarse and ragged voice, "it is truly a remedy for my heart to see you back on the field of battle after a month of absence. As you can surely deduce from the mission briefing I've sent you, this has been a month with great trouble for Lylat. An old enemy, which we believed to be long gone after the events that transpired seven months ago at the start of the Aparoid Invasion, has reared its ugly head again to terrorize us!" The general paused, letting his words sink into the heads and hearts of those, who were gathered.

"The Venomian Remnant!" Mikki grumbled angrily, for a moment aflame with rage, seeing as the megalomaniacal Venomians were once again out to harm the innocent denizens of Lylat. But when he realized that the general was still looking at them, he regained his lost composure, and wanted to make up for his sudden fit of pique, "Sorry, sir! But I want to ask you something: How can they still be out and about? Oikonny was killed seven months ago, so they're without a leader. And what military force goes out without a leader? It can't be Oikonny, can it?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, it seems that it can't be, and it seems that only they go out without a leader", Pepper answered gloomily, "for we haven't been able to confirm the existence of Oikonny based on the burst scans we have conducted on their ships. We dispatched some remote-controlled scanner probes to do this, and so far, things have turned out to be only rage-driven; it doesn't look like they're under the command of a higher officer, and certainly not Oikonny. Our guess is that they just want revenge for the devastating blow we dealt them a while back."

"And let me guess, sir", Falco said, a big smirk on his face, "You want us to go and stop their revenge?" Pepper had always been a man for long and excessive metaphors, and Falco was beginning to tire of it. He just wanted to cut through to the bone, get his assignment and get it popping. And it looked like Pepper did not mind this rather abrupt intervention in his speech, much to the wonder of Falco, for he gave the avian an appreciative smile.

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Falco. Yes, we want you to go out and put a stop to their operations… permanently," the general underlined harshly, and was about to continue when he suddenly heard John's very audible snoring through the speaker. As he looked to his chair, Pepper suppressed a yelp of surprise. Saber was slumped down in his chair, his head had drooped onto his chest and he was now sleeping soundly as a result of being overly tired, his hunched figure producing an extremely loud and irksome snoring. Each and every member of Team Star Fox and G-Wing was looking at him with great shame in his or her eyes. Pepper ended the embarrassing matter with authority.

"Lieutenant!" he boomed commandingly, and John awoke with a start, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and blinking wildly with his eyes, before finally fixing his stare on Pepper and mumbling a, "Sorry, sir!" He then sat tensely in his seat, fully awake and with the flame of determination and life burning in his eyes once again, now that a good old scare had brought him out of his deep, all-consuming sleep.

"Good. Now that we're all clear on the mission, I would like to look at the weapon-schematics that you've sent me. Hang on," Pepper said as he disappeared from the holo-screen and out of the picture, where the two teams could hear him rustling with some paper. As he returned with the pages and began flipping through them, his eyes widened considerably as he saw the scribble, which Jakob had added to the text.

Once he was done, the general put the papers down on the desk in front of him, looking aghast at the sight of the scribble, "What is this? Are all the results that my scientists have reached, miscalculated? I demand an explanation!" he said bewilderedly, suddenly afraid that he was about to outfit the Arwings and other materials of the Army with low-functioning equipment, while his men expected it to be state-of-the-art.

"Some are, and some aren't, to tell you the truth, sir," Ghost said cryptically as he spoke up from the back of the room, "As I read the file, I noticed several things that didn't make any sense at first glance, either because they were written wrongly… or simply, as you so rightly say, miscalculated. I'll be happy to show it to you, sir!" he said as he picked up the file. Pepper did the same and began flipping through the pages again, albeit with an incredulous look upon his face.

"You will undoubtedly notice", Jakob spoke on as Pepper continued flipping through the pages, "that I've made a few corrigenda in the section concerning the particle acceleration in your laser-, plasma-, and pulse-based weaponry. This, it occurred to me, was simply too slow to do any significant damage against heavier and better fortified opponents than, say, small standard strike fighters. This is probably why, I assume, it has taken you so long to reduce the Venomian Remnant to its current size, seeing as it largely consists of capital ships, which your weapons would be very weak against. Also, this could be the reason why, although you seldom hear it, Lylatian particle weaponry has gained the reputation of being somewhat weak. Unbeknownst to you, your weapons have just not been powerful enough. But if you follow these suggestions, I think that it'll work out just fine."

Pepper opened his mouth to speak, but was – rather insolently – cut off by the loquacious commander again, "Furthermore, I've noticed the rather peculiar way in which your scientists have chosen to write the shield strength for the new energy shields. Please be so kind as to inform them that the shield strength is normally given in Mega-Watt and not as two numbers for Joule per second, as is the case here. And while we're at it, tell them that the shield strengths, which Krystal and I have calculated", he paused and nodded appreciatively at Krystal as the cerulean vixen sent him a smile of triumph, "are the right ones. The shield strengths which your scientists have reached are ridiculously low if they're meant to be used on an Arwing. Even the shields, which you have planned for your cruisers, suffer from this. Do your military a favour and raise the strengths of both Arwing- and cruiser-shields considerably…" Jakob paused again before ending respectfully, "… sir!"

After this long rant, Pepper closed his eyes and sat completely still for a moment, engulfed in deep thoughts. On the one hand, his pride was speaking to him. He could not imagine why he, as an experienced military leader of the Cornerian Army, should follow the suggestions of a scrawny human from another solar system, who had suddenly turned overly ambitious as he was given the rank of commander in the originally Cornerian military.

On the other hand, Pepper let the factual results speak as well: G-Wing's record had been truly excellent in every sense of the word, and the three in union had always proved to be an invaluable asset to the Cornerian Army ever since they were brought in seven months ago, so seen like this, Pepper saw no reason to question their judgement on this matter. The general then thought of the tests, which they had been put through as they entered the Cornerian Army. These tests had revealed a multitude of various things about each of their personalities. Mikki was humorous and self-sacrificing, John was impulsive and aggressive, and Jakob was thoughtful and calm, to put it plainly. And it was this incisiveness, which had been found in Ghost, Pepper knew, which had made him a commander along with his sharp mind. And, knowing that he could not go against the painstaking veracity of these facts, no matter how much his pride told him to, the general came to a decision.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and nodded firmly at Jakob, "A stickler for detail, eh? That's also what they deemed you to be seven months ago. I'll pass this information on to my technicians, and they'll come up with a method to recalibrate every shield module, particle accelerator and technical description within two hours," the general said authoritatively.

"With all due respect, sir, that's not possible. No matter how good scientists you have, they can't do all that in two hours. They'd have to tamper with each and every device in the Army!" Mikki objected, seeing the impossibility of such an endeavour as clear as day. To his surprise, Pepper only responded with a light smirk.

"Who said "every device in the Army", sergeant? You did. I've never mentioned anything about the Army. They just need to go through your Arwings… and all the Arwings at commander Jakob's new place of work!" he concluded coolly.

There was absolute silence for a moment, as if the bridge had been bombarded by a thunderclap of muteness. And then, Jakob gathered the courage to speak up somewhat hesitantly and tentatively, his mind reeling feverishly within his head, "My new… what? Place of work?" he said confusedly at first, but then raised his voice to a somewhat angered tone, "What is this, sir? Are you relocating me to another squadron on another carrier without my prior knowledge of or say in the matter? This is completely ludicrous!"

Because of the slight tension and disapproval in the commander's voice, Pepper's reply seemed to take on an edge of coolness also, "Instead of being angry with me and my decision, you should be proud, commander. You're the first human ever in Lylatian history to gain control of a cruiser in the Cornerian Army," the general said, smiling slightly as he saw the baffled expression, which crept onto Ghost's face. He knew that the human could not have known his intents, and as such, the general simply continued with his information.

"You'll be given command of the cruiser The Valaria, the newest addition to the Cornerian Fleet. It's a state-of-the-art medium-class cruiser, outfitted with the latest weaponry – which also has to be recalculated now, it seems – and the latest in energy shields and protective flak armour plating. We'll use this ship as our second flagship in addition to the Great Fox during our attack on the Venomians. Is everyone clear?"

After the ragged chorus of "Affirmative!" and "Yes, sir!" had subsided, Jakob spoke up, a great deal of confusion in his eyes and tone of voice. He had always considered himself a part of the actively fighting forces in a conflict, and not just some senior officer cooped up on the bridge of a cruiser, giving the orders and inflicting death and pain on the enemy from afar. To him, it was all about the valour and gamble with one's life when he was on a mission, plus the addition it gave to his friendship with the comrades that accompanied him into the fray.

"No, sir, I'm not clear. Why me? You know just as well as I do that I belong with the others, with my friends! Why should I have to be dragged into such a solitary position, far away from them?" he asked vehemently, obviously displeased with Pepper's current plans for his military career.

To this confused complaint, the general merely flashed a weak, almost apologetic smile before replying, "Well, the top brass, including myself, have decided that you possess all the necessary attributes to qualify for such a position, so we decided to give it a try with you. And don't you know what they say about army-life, commander? It's not a job, it's an adventure! And I want you to try out that adventure, try this test of your skills, and see if the position as a cruiser-commander really is as appalling as you make it sound. And if you find out that it's definitely not for you, I'm sure we can work something out. Also, it's not like you'll be millions of parsec away from your friends. They'll literally be flying around outside your window!"

Still in two minds about whether or not he should accept, Ghost turned his head to look at the last source of decision he could think of when his brain could not come to one on its own: His friends. Mikki, ever the optimist, smiled widely at him and gave him two thumbs up.

"Go on, dude! Do it!" he said encouragingly, then let his love for heavy weaponry shine through as he continued his eager reply, "If I were you, I'd have taken that offer right on the spot. It sounds so goddamned exciting, and I wouldn't want you to miss that chance! Just imagine firing those heavy plasma cannons into the hull of some pesky little Venomian cruiser… What a blast!" the sergeant grinned enthusiastically.

John, on the other hand, just gave Jakob a look of complete tiredness and responded with a careless shrug before voicing his opinion, "Just make the general happy, and let's get down to the training room, man! Or else I'll fall asleep again," he mumbled noncommittally.

Happily realizing that his friends were in favour of this new change in his military position, Jakob turned around and smiled widely at the general, inclining his head slightly and spreading his hands in a subtle gesture of acquiescence, "Well, since you put it that way, sir, and since my friends agree as wholeheartedly as it seems that they do..." he paused for the slightest of moments while he cast a curious glance at Saber, "... I have no choice but to accept, really. Also, in spite of me being uneasy about this, I should probably compliment you, sir, for the fact that you still manage to raise quite a cogent point in your own defence, when you told me the little thing about army-life before. And what was it they said back on Earth in the old times? _Non est ad astra via mollis e terris!_" the eloquent commander mumbled solemnly. But instead of the answer of affirmation, which he had expected from the general after muttering the saying in Latin, all he received from Pepper and the others were vacant, uncomprehending stares. Ghost had just taken it for granted that Pepper knew Latin, seeing as how he was a well-educated canine, but then he realized his misjudgement, mentally slapping himself for this rather stupid assumption. Pepper's education revolved around Lylatian culture, not the culture of other solar systems, so how would he have the slightest chance of having heard of Latin, seeing as it was a language only on Earth – and an extinct one at that.

Krystal, however, was the only exception amidst the stony glares. Her emerald eyes and stare seemed to glow brightly with a desire to know more of that mystic, archaic – and possibly wise – language she had just heard her friend utter. And it was this very desire of hers that paved the way for advancement in the somehow disrupted conversation.

"What does it mean? That sentence in a foreign language you said just before?" Krystal half whispered, half said to him amazedly. The cerulean vixen was, and had always been, of a very inquisitive and knowledge-interested nature. The Lylat System was vast, and offered her a multitude of different things to learn and understand, but if she could throw something in from Earth as well, Krystal thought to herself, that would not do her any harm.

Having experienced her immensely curious nature first-hand on several occasions, Jakob smiled vaguely as he heard Krystal voice her amazement, and answered her, as well as all the others, right away, "Why did I know that you would be the first one to ask, Krys? All right, if you want to know, it's Latin, a very old – and now extinct – language on Earth. If you translate what I said, it means: "The way from the Earth to the stars is not without trouble". What it means literally is that you'll have to face some unpleasant things in your life, but when you've done that, you'll usually be glad afterwards that you've experienced it. And that's why I said it in connection with this: Maybe this cruiser-thing will be unpleasant – I can't know for sure – but I'm also certain that it'll be beneficial for me in some way, so even if I do disagree with this rather challenging prospect deep down, in actuality I have no other sensible option but to acquiesce… Offer accepted, sir! When do I start?" he asked eagerly, followed by small cheers of jubilation and encouragement from Mikki and Krystal.

Pepper looked relieved before he glanced at the digital watch at his desk, "In precisely one hour and fifty minutes!" the general stated as a reply to Ghost's question, "I'll contact you again at that time. If anyone has anything that needs to be done, I suggest you do it now. You won't have time when you're blasting the Venomians back to the rock of a planet from whence they came! You're all dismissed. I'll see you in a while. Pepper out!"

As the general turned off the power on Corneria, the screen flickered into static on the bridge of the Great Fox before Slippy turned it off with a precise click on the keyboard. After this, everyone sat silently without moving, trying to summarize what the general had just told them. But finally, the always energetic nature of one of them got the best of him, as John sprang up from his chair eagerly. All this inactivity was too much for his always energetic and activity-craving nature, and now, he felt like a junkie:

The demand for action had grown as he had listened while Pepper droned on for what seemed like hours, and now, he could simply not ignore his consciousness as it screamed to him about getting up and about. He hated this grey, unavoidable sleeping time, and now his psyche had decided for him to do something about it, mentally prodding him to get up. And as such, John flew up from his chair with all his pent-up energy and shouted wildly, "Okay, that's it! I'm sick and tired of sitting here and doing nothing! I'm going to the training room. Who's with me?"

The next thing that could be heard, before Peppy and Slippy found themselves alone on the bridge as usual, was the enthusiastic and energetic scuttle of feel as Team G-Wing and Team Star Fox – except for two members – walked off to the training facilities on the Great Fox, fully intent on bracing and preparing themselves for the upcoming mission… and to have a lot of fun while they were doing it.


	5. Chp 3: Beyond How or Why

**Chapter 3: Beyond How or Why**

From lieutenant John (Saber)'s log: _Day 1 after return (entry again). Man, I was really embarrassed when Pepper woke me as I dozed off on the bridge. Well, there's no excuse for it. I was just so goddamn tired. But then again, Pepper can learn not to expect his men to always be fit and ready. Even the best soldier needs some time to chill, man! _

From commander Jakob (Ghost)'s log: _11:18, Lylatian Standard Time. A relocation, eh? Oh well, I guess one has to renew oneself every once in a while. But I hate to accept the thought that I will be separated from my friends Shield and Saber. Then again, I might make some new friends on The Valaria, so it cannot be that bad, either. I guess that I will just have to take things as they come._

From sergeant Mikki (Shield)'s log: _Damn, that was a strange briefing! John fell asleep and Jakob got moved to another ship. And I freaked out about The Venomian Remnant in the face of General Pepper. Wow, so that's what a month away from Lylat does to you when you return again! But we'll soon move out against the Venomians, so I'd better prepare._

Anyone who had been passing the training facility on the Great Fox at precisely one o'clock that particular day would have heard a very audible _thud_ echo out from the vast room beyond the door, followed by Jakob's indignant utterance:

"Bloody hell, Mikki! You hit too hard, man! It's just training!"

The commander picked himself up from the floor and shook his black leather trenchcoat a couple of times to make it straight again, the leather straps, metal buckles and Cornerian Medal of Honour on its front flapping around wildly, before he entered his traditional combat-ready CQC-stance, his hands with the black leather gloves clenched tightly into fists and his feet spread a bit apart to get a better foothold. His opponent for this match, the big and sturdy sergeant Mikki, clad in his usual heavy flak vest, desert-camouflage pants and durable military boots, flashed him an apologetic smile as the two of them started circling around each other cautiously in their little square of training space, Shield's extremely heavy and durable boots clunking against the floor with every step he took. Since this was just training, and since they would be flying around for the duration of the upcoming mission, the members of Team Star Fox and G-Wing alike had chosen not to bring their weapons with them, only to change to their respectable mission outfits.

"Sorry, man! I couldn't help it. I just get so caught up in this!" Mikki smiled, as he narrowly dodged the series of punches that Ghost aimed at his head and stomach. With lightning reflexes, which were not so usual in his combat style, Shield parried the last punch, making Jakob flinch as his fist unexpectedly came into contact with Mikki's strong and sturdy arm. This gave the sergeant his chance to follow up with a combo of his own rather brutal punches, which were also narrowly dodged by the commander with uncanny agility.

"Be that as it may, my friend! But my chest hurts like hell from that punch. And I'm entitled to revenge, according to my own rules of combat!" Ghost sneered with a sinister, albeit joking, smile on his face, before suddenly tightening the muscles in his left upper arm and letting Mikki's incoming punch collide with this arm, which he raised suddenly. As the kinetic energy from the punch was absorbed by his parry and Jakob got rid of Shield's threatening fist with a deft sweeping flick of his arm, Mikki flinched just as his adversary had done previously, giving Ghost the chance he needed to jump up and deliver one of his signature attacks in a whirl of black trenchcoat leather; a vicious roundhouse kick straight to the chest. But of course, since it was just training, he did not apply as much force to the attack as he would have done if this were a combat situation.

As Jakob's military boot collided with Shield's chest, which was partially covered in his heavy combat flak vest, the sergeant staggered backwards a bit, but then he only smiled pityingly as Jakob in one flowing motion finished his spin in the air, landed again and executed a punch towards his jaw. Mikki reacted instinctively and grabbed hold of Ghost's hand as it was coming in for the punch. With the hand firmly in his grasp, he twisted Jakob's arm, which made the commander groan in pain and bend down. Shield stepped closer to Jakob and kept on twisting his arm from behind, and even though Ghost tried to break free with timed and skilled elbow thrusts to Mikki's chest, he had to surrender to the pain ultimately. With an irritated moan of pain, the commander let himself fall to the floor. As he did, Mikki immediately let go of his arm.

Jakob shook his head a couple of times and rubbed his arm to regain his composure and get rid of some of the pain before looking at Shield, "What the hell was that all about? I try almost everything I have, every good trick I know, and I still can't get you down! What the devil's happened to me?" he said wonderingly, as he stood up, shook his trenchcoat again and looked at his friend enquiringly. In truth, Mikki had never proved to be an easy match whenever Ghost had trained CQC-techniques against him.

Krystal was relatively easy, because he had learned almost all of her moves by now and could read her like an open book, just like she could with him. John was a bit more challenging because of his energetic and unpredictable fighting style, where one could often find oneself in a flurry of fast punches and kicks coming from all sides, even more so if he used his katana and blaster on an enemy, resulting in deadly sword slices and laser blasts. But still, even he was manageable if one could adapt to his fast-paced combat, keep one's cool and try to read him. But Mikki's seemingly unstoppable, brutal and destructive way of fighting had always eluded Jakob the most, and after the fight today, where he had used all the moves that would normally make anyone go down, and had still not been victorious, his mind screamed to him for clarification on this matter.

In return, Shield only beamed happily and triumphantly at him before giving the rather simple cause of Ghost's losing this match, "You've just got to hit harder, dude! Or else I won't feel it. I've got one hundred percent natural protection. Bones and muscle, man!" Mikki said self-righteously, the smirk still clinging to his face.

"Hmm… Cause and effect, yes? I'll try to remember it. You're in for a beating next time, if that's what you want," Jakob grinned mischievously to his friend, who grinned back before they shared a joyful high five. After all, their friendship was too strong to let the result of a trivial training match come between them.

As the two of them looked to the arena beside their own, they saw John fighting for his dignity and coolness. John was in the arena and circled carefully around his opponent while all the time maintaining a haughty look and a gloating smile of self-confidence. His opponent, the Cerinian vixen known as Krystal, just stood in the middle of the arena in her traditional CQC-stance with a serene smile of calmness upon her face and her tail flicking slowly back and forth with expectance and excitement. The young vixen was clad in her traditional blue Team Star Fox uniform, its aquamarine colour nicely accentuating the natural cerulean of her fur. Although being present in a combat scenario, Krystal had not bothered with taking her jewellery off; she was still wearing her golden necklace emblazoned with one single, priceless turquoise, along with the tiara, which hung from her forehead, holding a large, brilliantly shining ruby. However pleasant it seemed, her smile was a front for a cold and calculating mind in situations like these.

Because of this very serenity and calmness, which almost radiated visibly from her as she stood there in the centre of the arena, Krystal could always trick her adversaries into making the first, and often rash, move, which gave her the advantage, as she could clearly read the signs of vulnerability in this move, counter it, and retaliate with deadly force. The cerulean vixen possessed an almost infinite calmness when it came to melee combat situations; primarily, this had something to do with the way she had been schooled to use her staff back on Cerinia. This form of combat was all about waiting and making your opponent lose his head and attack, so that you could gain an advantage from his uncalculated rage. Krystal had demonstrated excellent skill in this combat of demeanours on her home planet, effectively triumphing over some of the more rash and impulsive warriors because of her self-controlled nature and perfect equilibrium in mind and body.

As she attentively eyed Saber's tense and slightly hunched form as he stepped softly around her like a stalking predator, his dusty-green vest rustling about on his person, Krystal concluded with herself that he was just as rash as the warriors from her training days, and that she should just wait a few more seconds before he would strike. She could see that the young commando was bristling with energy, which he fought to keep in check and unleash upon her. A glint of pity began to materialize in her emerald eyes, but was soon after replaced with the much more appropriate glint of determination, as John started to move around with a bit more impatience than he had done previously.

"Come on, Krys! Come on! Strike, goddamnit! You know you want to. I'm ready and you're ready… " Saber sneered provocatively to her, his voice almost an intense hiss because of his tense demeanour, as he started circling even faster.

"_A classic sign of impatience: Taunts and an energetic pace. But I won't strike first. I think he'll find himself lunging at me before he knows it, much to his chagrin!"_ Krystal thought, smiling even wider as she heard the allegedly demoralizing threats and taunts as they continued to flow from John's lips, her eyes constantly fixed on every move the impulsive lieutenant made.

Suddenly, Saber could not control his pent-up energy anymore and – just as Krystal had predicted – lunged at her with a fierce punch and a shout of energy and rage. Without showing any sign of effort or trouble, Krystal parried the punch with a mere flick of her arm. But that was not all. She extended the flick into coiling her own arm around John's and giving it a hard twist and yank downwards. The lieutenant groaned in pain and screwed up his face slightly as he bent downwards because of his aching arm, which presented the perfect opportunity for Krystal to knee him once in the stomach and bring him to the ground with a chop executed towards the exposed back of his neck. The chop collided with his upper spine more softly than she would have done if it was a real combat situation, albeit not so softly that Saber did not feel anything. The move was delivered with almost surgical precision and was a perfect proof of the Cerinian's deftness in combat, be it with or without her staff.

As John lay there on the floor, clutching his still aching forearm and moaning slightly because of the pain, although he did his best to muffle it, the cerulean vixen looked down at him and smiled a caring smile, which seemed to radiate pure discomfort about what she had just done, and a great deal of pity for Saber.

"Oh, you poor dear! I'm sorry if I accidentally hurt you more than I wanted to. Here, let's get you on your feet again, mighty warrior," Krystal said apologetically and extended her hand kindly to help him up. For a short moment, it seemed like John was going to accept the offer, but then a malicious smile flashed across his facial features before he swiftly clamped both his legs tightly around one of Krystal's ankles and pulled with all his might. The Cerinian gave an audible cry of surprise as she fell to the floor, and as she tried to get up, she found Saber standing over her. She tried executing a fast punch towards his face, but he caught her hand as it approached him with an uncanny expertise, whereupon he twisted it, forcing the vixen to turn around, so that she was now lying on her stomach. The lieutenant knelt down beside her with one of her arms in his grasp, caught hold of the other one and locked them on her back while simultaneously pinning her down with a knee solidly planted in the middle region of her back, cutting into her spine, not painfully, but just enough to subdue her and not make the cerulean vixen do any sudden moves..

"Admit that you've been defeated by a superior species, Krystal. Admit it now!" John shouted maniacally with glee, extremely pleased with having triumphed over the skilful young Cerinian, a wry, but also humorous, smile playing across his face, before he started to laugh, suddenly realizing how deeply absurd the sight of him pinning Krystal to the floor had to look.

As much as she struggled and squirmed to break free, Krystal ultimately found herself completely and utterly in the lieutenant's grasp, with no hope of getting out. The cerulean vixen turned her head as she heard Saber laugh and stared at him confusedly with her large emerald eyes, before she could also see the absurd nature of the situation herself: A scrawny but well-trained human having pinned a fit and normally valiantly fighting Cerinian to the floor. The vision of this as Krystal pictured it in her mind's eye was so comical that she could not resist the urge to laugh loudly with John; a fine pleasant laughter that bore no shadowy undertones of animosity or hurt feelings on Krystal's part, but merely enjoyment about the comical outcome of the fight. As Mikki and Jakob heard this, they sent each other a wary glance, as if to say silently that something had snapped in Krystal's mind since she could laugh about being in such a humiliating position.

"All right, all right John, if that's what you want to hear!" Krystal laughed joyfully in response to Saber's harsh-sounding, but still humorous, order for a confession, "The humans are a superior species, and I admit my defeat to the most unpredictable and fiercely fighting one I know! There, satisfied now?" she smiled from her lock on the floor, and gave a sigh of relief as John let her go and moved away from his pinning position.

"Yeah, that's all I want to hear. Thanks for the kind words, Krys! And I hope you know that I never meant to harm you. Well, not much, at least!" Saber grinned mischievously, receiving a dismissing wave of incredulity from the hand of the cerulean vixen along with a wry smile.

Feeling obliged to compliment her just as she had done with him, he started to utter his respect for her fighting skills as well, "But I must say, you really taught me a lesson there with the arm twist, the knee in the stomach and the neck chop. I never thought something like that would work!" he said, and was about to continue the rant, before he was timely interrupted by Peppy over the intercom of the Great Fox.

"Attention. All Team Star Fox and G-Wing members please report to the hangar. General Pepper has arrived with a contingent of fighter pilots from the Cornerian Army, and The Valaria should be within docking range in thirty minutes. I say again, all Team Star Fox and…" the loudspeaker droned on monotonously.

"Guys, I hope you've all prepared and psyched yourselves up as much as you need", Mikki said as the foursome resolutely went out of the training room and towards the main hangar, "because this is going to be…", he smiled contently before uttering the last part of his sentence, "… a serious Venomian ass-kicking!"

---

After the initial shock of what Mikki, John, Jakob and the now complete Star Fox Team – consisting of Fox, Falco, Krystal and Slippy – saw in the hangar as they all stepped through the main hangar doors, John raised his voice. It was indeed a glib remark that spurted from his lips, as it could almost always be guaranteed when he was about, but it was not disapproving in any way. Instead, he just voiced his surprise about what he found in there in a most unusual way.

"Holy hell and drop me in a supernova!" he whispered amazedly, "No-one said anything about our hangar turning into a frigging Arwing-convention!"

Had it not been for the multitude of people in uniforms and battle-fatigues, who were bustling around frantically between the slim-lined and stainless white Arwings, desperately trying to make last-minute changes to the impressive vessels, which were lined up in rows along the walls of the hangar, Saber could have been right in his impression that this was an Arwing-convention. Almost as if they were on display, the magnificent fighters stood with their wings in the traditional position folded slightly against the hull of the vessel, almost resembling great, metallic birds of prey with their pointy front, slender main body and blue aerodynamic flaps on top of their wings, slumbering lightly with their wings close to their bodies, until the need arose and they would swoop down upon their enemies mercilessly, laser cannons ablaze.

Mikki eyed this spectacular gathering with fascination glinting in his eyes as the teams walked down through the impromptu aisle that had been formed where the Arwing-groups divided slightly from each other. The fighters had been placed in two groups, one at each wall and with fifteen in each, all facing the front of the hangar, where a slightly shimmering, low-frequency aquamarine energy-barrier prevented astronomical foreign bodies from entering the hangar while at the same time allowing the fighters to pass through on their way in or out. Despite the relatively small space in the Great Fox hangar, Pepper had succeeded in cramming thirty Arwings together in there, in addition to the seven Arwings of Team Star Fox and G-Wing. And in front of the gathered ships, the general himself stood and surveyed the scenery with his calm and experienced gaze, which he let settle upon the two teams as they reached him and stood respectfully at attention.

"As you were, soldiers," Pepper acknowledged them, and Star Fox and G-Wing entered some more relaxed positions. The general let his gaze pass the troops that stood before him yet again and flashed a wondering smile, "Hmm… I see you're missing your strategist, Fox. He won't join you in the fray, I assume?"

"No, sir, he won't. After the Aparoid Invasion, he felt more comfortable on the bridge, and I've got no intentions of disrupting that career. Retirement is retirement… well, sort of, in his case," Fox said, a grin playing across his muzzle. He was referring to Peppy, who had taken up a career as a strategist and advisor to the Star Fox-crew, giving his advice to the fighting troops from the bridge, very contrary to his younger years, where he accompanied Fox, Falco and Slippy valiantly in an Arwing during the hectic days of the Lylat Wars.

Pepper nodded curtly before giving his next orders just as hectically; apparently, the forthcoming offensive against the Venomians combined with the drastic last-minute changes to the weapons and shields had left the normally calm General's plans in a state of disarray, with him wanting to make sure everything was done properly and effectively within a tight schedule, "Well, we'll be moving out in twenty minutes, so if you need to speak any last words to each other before this, it has to be now. Each of you will be commanding a squadron of five pilots when you launch, that's the reason for all the extra Arwings. We figured we might as well come prepared, and we needed someone with your expertise to guide most of the recruits and sergeants who were assigned to this, hence our decision."

"Commander," he said, shifting his attention to Ghost, "you'll be departing for The Valaria in ten minutes, so you'd better speak up as well in case you have anything to say to your friends. We just need to give The Valaria some time to get into the appropriate docking position. And with that said, the only other thing I can say to you in conclusion is: Good luck, Team Star Fox and G-Wing! I'll see you after this is done." With a respectful salute to the teams, the general turned his back on them and walked away briskly, before they saw his ruby-red uniform disappear behind some Arwings at the far end of the hangar.

The two teams stood staring at each other in silence and at a loss of words, until John decided with himself to break it, "Well, guys, I think this is it: The greatest battle of our time. J-man, good luck with that cruiser thing you're getting assigned to… and the rest of you: don't even think about surpassing me in kills on this one. You know it's impossible!" he grinned smartly, but was awarded with a slap to the back of his head by Falco for his rather arrogant attitude.

"Hey, cap-boy, don't get all smart with me! Who was it that beat you in the enemy-simulation when you were here last time? I think it was me, and I can easily do it again! You just wait and see!" the blue-feathered avian laughed jokingly, waving his wing in dismissal as he started walking off into the throng of Arwings to find his own.

Saber followed while protesting loudly, "Yeah, all right, man, but simulations are one thing. Real combat is completely different. When you're out there and the adrenaline's pumping…" The rest of his bragging talk was reduced to nothing but a garbled murmur as the swordsman and commando disappeared behind the wall of Arwings in pursuit of his avian rival.

Now, only Mikki, Jakob, Fox, Slippy and Krystal were left, and Shield made his exit swiftly and respectfully. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Ghost's shoulder while looking him sincerely in the eye, "Dude, good luck on the cruiser. Show those newbies how it's done, man! And don't worry; I'll handle the flying and blowing stuff up. I won't allow those Venomian retards to even scratch your hull!" he said forcefully.

Jakob smiled widely in appreciation of the sergeant's enthusiastic sight on the mission. He knew that Mikki would take things with an unsurpassed amount of ease, humour and sense of duty as they came, and Shield's zealous ideals and charisma, which seemed to emanate from his very being, made him one of the most potent fighters against the enemies of Lylat. So the only thing Ghost could do was to compliment his friend back, an action he performed by also taking a step forward, the wide smile still on his face, and placing his gloved hand on his friend's shoulder as well.

"And I don't doubt for a second that the Venomians will get the biggest scare of their lives when they see that the Cornerians have such a valiant pilot like you on their team. Now get out there and knock some heads for me, sergeant! That's an order!" he said jokingly, and returned the friendly high five, which the sergeant gave him, along with yet another wide smile. As Fox went past him, Jakob received a pat on the arm and a hasty "Good luck!", while Slippy merely gave him two encouraging thumbs up.

But it was at the moment when Krystal passed him and sent him a sincere stare and a weak smile that it struck him. Something was not right with the young vixen, for that gaze had told him much more than words could describe, at least when it came to Krystal, whose personality he knew like his own, in a sense, after all the time he had spent in her company on various occasions, be it military or during peace-time. It was as if an ominous and sinister shadow of discomfort had fallen across her normally lively and lustrous emerald eyes, darkening them somehow.

"_Oh dear, oh dear! What now, Krystal? Which heart-rending and painful enigma of the soul puzzles you now? And why have I got the feeling that you'll seek my counsel about it in approximately two minutes' time? We have yet to find out,"_ the commander thought to himself as he turned his back on the group of team-mates walking away from him, and started staring fixedly at the slightly rippling aquamarine energy-barrier, which separated the hangar and the pitch-black void sparkling with stars, as if its shimmering surface held the answer to his worried mental query.

---

As Mikki, Fox, Slippy and Krystal made their way through the horde of Arwings in a single file, dodging various military officials and soldiers on their way, Krystal made up the rear of the group, only listening vaguely to Fox's suggestions about following the voices of John and Falco, whom they could hear clearly because of the excellent acoustics of the hangar. Her head was swarming with a multitude of thoughts concerning their upcoming mission.

Fox had been in doubt about bringing G-Wing in, and if that was the right thing to do. At first, when she was confronted by the nagging worries of her love, Krystal had been – as she saw it now – overly enthusiastic and without a care in the world, not even stopping her stream of happy thoughts for just a moment to consider the possibility of Fox being right in his worries. In short, she had been too overwhelmed by G-Wing's sudden arrival again that she had not thought about any real dangers when facing the Venomians.

But now, when she had given her energetic and lively thoughts some rest overnight and let the happiness from the reunion with her earthly friends recede, Krystal suddenly felt the same dark, pessimistic worries, which she had sensed in Fox's mind, viciously intrude upon the serenity of her own mind and cloud her normally finely tuned judgement. Certainly, three skilled humans were all well and good, but what difference would they make in the big picture? And could they really fight effectively against a megalomaniacal race, which even Fox's heroic and valiant father, James McCloud, could not get to lay down its arms and sink to its knees in capitulation?

These questions, with their ensuing amount of acrimonious feelings deep within her very soul, pounded forcefully against the mental barricades of resolve, which the cerulean vixen had erected around the last and faint glimmer of hope in her mind when it came to this problem: Her own belief that the conflict would work out in favour of the Cornerians. For deep down inside, she also believed in victory. She also believed that Team G-Wing could make a difference by using their untraditional and unheard-of human ways to turn a potentially eternal battle into the last stand, the last stand being this day. But as Krystal tried to come to a logical decision with herself about why it was so, she found her logic to be shrouded in the swirling, obscuring hazes of uncertainty and doubt, and even with her experience regarding the nature of the mind, she could not get them to vanish; she could not restore order to this complex mishmash of feelings fighting within her. But she knew someone who could. He had done it before, and could certainly do it again.

Silently running along the side of the group, Krystal eventually reached Fox's side. He smiled with delight as his loved one appeared in his field of vision, but his expression became much more grave and confused when she said, "Fox, I'm just leaving you guys for a minute. I've got a hazy mind, so I'm just going to see my military adviser for a while. Don't take off without me!" After this hasty utterance, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before sprinting frantically in the opposite direction of the one that they were walking, Fox and Shield staring at her in utter awe.

"What the heck was that all about? "Going to see my adviser?" "A hazy mind?" I noticed that she did seem a little down on our way here. What's bothering her? And who the hell is her military adviser?" Fox mumbled worriedly, feeling the concern for his love well up inside him.

Mikki placed a hand comfortingly on Fox's shoulder and answered merrily, "Don't worry about it, Fox! Whatever Krystal does, I bet she's got a good reason for doing it. She's a smart girl, after all. It's not like she'd run off and have an affair right under your nose, if that's what you think, believe me! She's too loyal towards you to do that. And I know only one person who could know her brain well enough to be her adviser."

"But who, Shield?" Fox asked, now in a state of total confusion, looking aghast at the sergeant, his mind too cloudy with confusion and shock about Krystal's impulsive action to think straight.

"You can guess twice!" Mikki grinned jokingly, as if to imply that the answer was mind-bogglingly obvious.

---

The various military officials on their way around the hangar did pause a moment in uncertainty as they noticed the tall and slim figure clad in a night-black trenchcoat, black leather gloves, military boots and a grey battledress, sometimes staring blankly at the energy-barrier, and sometimes glancing at the digital watch and Arwing-remote around his wrist.

In reality, they had nothing to be afraid of or feel insecure about, for the commander was just preparing his mind to deal with the inevitable conversation, which he knew would come, ever since he had seen the look in Krystal's eyes. He had a feeling just how far away she would go before she – quite literally – turned tail and went back to him, and that was why he had not moved an inch since his team-mates left, and also why he could estimate the time until Krystal's return to approximately two minutes. Right now, Jakob had just taken a glance at his watch and was counting silently inside his head, waiting for a sign of some sort to see if he was right.

"_One minute and fifty-five seconds… fifty-six…fifty-seven…"_

That was when he heard some soft and fast footsteps heading in his direction from in between the Arwings. He had heard them enough times in the field to be fairly sure that they belonged to a certain cerulean vixen. As they approached him, he resumed the counting within his head.

"_Fifty-eight…"_

The running footsteps got closer, and then came to a sudden halt almost right behind him.

"_Fifty-nine…"_

"Ghost! Are you there?" a female voice with a characteristic accent called out to him enquiringly, as if to check that his mind had not drifted away from the "now".

"_Two minutes,"_ Jakob concluded his counting and smiled complacently, satisfied with his own estimation. He then raised his voice in response to the somewhat worried query from the young vixen behind him, "Yes, Krystal, I'm here; or at least, my mind is. Based on the precognition of trouble that I felt upon seeing the haunted and stressful look you shot me just before, might I then be as predictive as to surmise that something's bothering you? What is it?" he asked casually, without turning around to face his friend.

"I… I just… I wanted to…" Krystal said nervously, stumbling over her own words as she felt a shiver run down her spine. This, and her stumbling over her words, was caused by the sudden feeling of denial that struck her as she faced Ghost's leather-clad back and talked to it. It seriously pained her to the core of her very being that he did not turn around for whatever reason, so that she could look him in the eye and see that he really cared about her problems, now that she had come to talk with him about just that. The somewhat tired and airy tone of voice in which he spoke only added to this feeling of dismissal and denial, originally caused by the fact that he did not turn around. And, while it also pained her, Krystal was puzzled as well. Why her trusted friend would suddenly not hear her out and have a heart-to-heart talk with her completely eluded her. She had come to bare her soul to him, and the least he could do, Krystal thought, was to show a bit of interest in return, instead of just turning his back on her and letting her spill out her worries, so that everybody could hear how miserable she was.

Now feeling even more demoralized than before, the poor cerulean vixen tried once more to invoke the interest and care, which she knew her friend possessed, but she could still not help stumbling over her words, and her voice had also begun to tremble slightly with suppressed sorrow, "Look, I… just wanted to talk to you… about some thoughts I've had…. and they… they trouble me a lot… Please, won't you help me? You're one of the only people I know who can guide me through this!" At the end of her request for aid, Krystal had raised her voice a bit, so that the sorrow-induced trembling and tone within it became clearly audible. And to top it off, two shimmering tears, these diamonds of the saddened soul, started to form themselves in the corners of her eyes, where they slowly and inexorably flowed down her cheeks, tracing wet paths in her cerulean fur, making her look utterly woebegone to the eye. And still, she found herself staring into his back, her sorrowful plea having provoked seemingly no emotional response whatsoever.

As she stood there, feeling completely powerless, a new feeling started to influence Krystal's mind, a feeling which often came with powerlessness: Rage. Rage about the suddenly uncaring nature of a person, whom she thought she knew and liked, and who held a special place in her heart. But now, it seemed, he had proven himself unworthy of that place. She was just about to let it all go and scream, "Oh, it seems that whatever I say, whenever I entrust myself to you, you don't put an effort into hearing me out, do you? You cynical bastard! And I called you my friend? Well, I'm proud to say that I don't know you anymore!" before hurrying back to the warmth and safety, which Fox provided, when the unthinkable happened.

With a flick of his heel, Jakob turned around in a whirl of black trenchcoat leather. What happened next made the young vixen gasp for breath in surprise; for she was staring into his genuinely concerned face and those calm eyes she knew so well, both the eye that could be seen properly and the one with the vision intensifier blocking it.

As he heard Krystal's astonished gasp, Ghost held his hands up in front of him reassuringly and smiled an apologetic smile, "Oh man! Sorry if I startled you there, Krystal. And sorry for not responding right away, and for sounding maybe a bit uncaring as you called out to me. I was actually just thinking about what you could be going through, and what I could possibly do to help you. As you eyed me when you went past me just before, I did notice something unusual in your eyes. And I thought it to be the shadow of trouble, so I started thinking about how to mend the damage, which had been inflicted on your soul. I was so lost in this that I didn't respond right away when you called out to me and asked for my help. Probe my mind if you don't believe me," he said equably, waiting for her to come to a decision, be it with or without telepathy.

Although there had not been any trace of lie to hear in Jakob's voice, Krystal was still so shocked by the unusual behaviour of her friend just before that she decided to take her chances. With closed eyes and a slightly bowed head, she extended a mental probe from her own mind and into the other one, which she could sense before her. And Krystal soon found that she had no reason to doubt his statement, for there was no animosity towards her to be found; only thoughts of great care, appreciation of the "great gift of friendship" as she sensed, and concern about her well-being. As the cerulean vixen raised her head again and looked Ghost in the eye, an apologetic glint flared in her emerald eyes.

"Well, at least now I know you weren't lying. And that alone is a great comfort to me!" she smiled, receiving an appreciative nod from her friend in return, before he started speaking thoughtfully and with his distinctive British accent, a phrase and some reasoning from some philosphy he had read once springing to mind as Ghost was faced with this statement from Krystal.

"Truth is an event, and only by experience can the veracity of a truth be verified," he recited solemnly before flashing a smile at Krystal's slightly puzzled facial expression, "William James, a philosopher from Earth, said that once. And I do believe that he's right. You can only be sure that a claim or statement from a person, even someone whom you think that you know, is completely true if you have some sort of evidence or have experienced something that makes it so. Truth happens to an idea or a statement; it becomes true, or is made true, by events. And as such, using experienced events to verify the veracity of what your friends say, that which you instinctively assume to be true since you know them well, is always a comfort… and an admirable trait as well, Krys. Even though you think that you know your friends, you mustn't let yourself be blinded by that feeling of immediate and natural security. Everybody, even those closest to you, can turn at any time and lose their interest. We are, after all, only fragile, easily affected, emotionally driven human beings… or Lylatian beings, for that matter. You should be proud of what you've just done."

The loquacious human commander paused after this eloquent recognition of Krystal's efforts, eyeing the cerulean vixen intently to make sure that she understood what he had been trying to tell her, and continued after she had given him her heartfelt thanks for his compliment and impromptu lesson on personality, "Anyway, good show on checking me through, Krystal! Now, to get to the heart of the matter, what can I do for you? How might I help you out of this delicate predicament?" Jakob said eagerly as he leaned himself nonchalantly against the side of the Arwing, which stood next to him, the leather in his outfit creaking faintly as he folded his arms loosely across his chest, "Come on, just fire away! I have all the time in the world…"

He paused and then added a continuation of his sentence with faked shamefulness, "Well, to be exact, I've only got five more minutes before I'm due to leave for The Valaria!" he said jokingly with a wry smile, enjoying the sound of Krystal's silvery laugh as he pulled this little simple joke on her.

"That's the real Ghost back again! Humour and thought, that's you," Krystal laughed as she wiped the tears of laughter and relief from her eyes, finally convinced that she had the friend before her, whom she knew and liked, and who, once again, had proven himself worthy of that special place in her heart. As she got over the feeling of relief, the young vixen fixed her beautiful emerald eyes upon him and looked at him closely – not a difficult thing to do since they were about the same height – and started telling him what was wrong.

"Yeah, well, this mission got me thinking. At first, I was all in for the idea of bringing you guys in, although Fox was as worried about it as I haven't seen him in a long time. I almost told him that it was foolish of him to think the way he did, because I was just so brimful with happiness about you guys returning here. But when I slept on it and gave my happy thoughts some rest, they subsided, to be replaced with the same dark worries I had heard Fox speak of. As this day has passed, I've felt more and more worried by the minute. Could you really make a difference as you were, being only an addition of three humans to the Cornerian Army, which is already strong in numbers, but hasn't been able to deal with the Venomian threat completely? And when the legendary James McCloud couldn't even bring the Venomians down, why should you be able to?"

Krystal let out an irritated sigh and rubbed her forehead, as if to get rid of some mental pain, looking apologetically at Jakob with a crestfallen expression on her face, as if it were her fault that he had to be burdened with all this, and not because he wanted to hear it himself, which was the case.

As Krystal had gotten over the feeling of frustration, she continued the depressed statement of her situation, "I'm sorry, Jakob. I know how weird this must sound. But there's one more thing. Even though I'm haunted by all these worries and they're threatening to create utter chaos in my mind, I still believe deep inside that there's hope for a victory. A victory ensured by G-Wing, by you guys. However – and this is the tricky part – I can't seem to find a good reason for why I think that it is so. If someone can't prove to me that I'm correct in this hope, I might just deny it as… wishful thinking… and give in to my worries!"

The cerulean vixen ended her rant with a depressed and bitter tone of voice, clearly letting Ghost understand that she would not like to go by that solution unless no other option could be found, as this would crush what little high hopes and good feelings she had left about this mission.

Jakob, who had previously only responded with concise nods and affirmative gestures, now stood completely frozen and with his eyes closed as his mind raced feverishly, effectively and coolly considering the information which he had just been given. As far as he could deduce, it was all just a matter of the absence of reason when one felt a certain conviction about something. A problem, which he knew that many of the great minds on Earth had tried debating about and attempted to categorize in all its aspects. A problem, which even his limited study of philosophy on his home planet allowed him to help Krystal with solving; an admirable feat, considering that the commander's study of philosophy involved only scanning various books about it for the sake of amateur interest and enjoyment.

After a short while of silent contemplation, Ghost opened his eyes again, but now with the characteristic incisive and determinate glint even more visible than before. A smile played across his lips as he calmly and interrogatively began asking Krystal about what she had just explained to him. When one looked at the smile, it would seem a bit odd, but in reality it was a smile of triumph, of having sorted out this vexing enigma which the troubled young vixen had presented him with.

"Given your apparently sorrowful and bleak state of mind, Krystal, I'm forced to concede that whatever troubles you has proved to be far more grievous than I originally deemed it, unfortunately. I see some kind of bi-polarity arise here, with both your adamant belief in a victory, and the despair you feel for being incapable of explaining the reason behind that belief. An intriguing conundrum of the soul, indeed, and therefore I'm only glad on your behalf that you came to me with this, for one should always be cognisant of the workings of the spirit. Sometimes, just like now, these workings can collide and create a dilemma, which seems utterly insoluble, even with the help of friends. But I do think", he said thoughtfully with that weird smile playing across his face, "that I can help you, Krys. However, I can't positively assure you that what I say will be a panacea for all those mental maladies of yours, but I can try to make it so. Now, I've spotted a certain lacuna in what you've just told me, Krystal: Your inability to explain why you believe in victory as you do deep down, yes?"

Krystal nodded amazedly as she heard this. That was the problem, and if he could sort it out when she could not, it would simply make her day, _"Here we go! This is the very exuberance and equanimity that I like you for, my friend. What would you be without it?" _she thought contently, but then focused on the situation now and answered his question.

"Yes, that's it. But, I mean, it doesn't sound logical now that you think about it. If someone asked me before I knew you if three humans could alter the course of the Venomian conflict by being added to the Cornerian Army, I'd say that it was madness. Do you believe in it? Do you believe it's true that you guys could have an effect on this perpetual war?" Krystal asked Ghost incredulously.

Without even taking a moment to consider his answer, Jakob voiced his opinion curtly and concisely, "Yes. I do."

This completely went against every logical assumption that the cerulean vixen could make. With doubt about his statement welling up in her eyes, she tried to get him to see her view of it again, "How can you say that? Can't you see it? Only three humans! That's nothing when you look at the big picture. Like I said, it's madness!" Krystal shouted desperately. To her surprise and bafflement, Jakob only responded with a light smirk.

"Madness? To believe what? That three humans can help turn the tides of a battle, which has been lasting for a decade, and in which every attempt to outnumber or outsmart the enemy has been met with sheer, overwhelming force and brutality against the Cornerians? Even despite the fact that the Cornerians are statistically strong because of their numbers, but weak because of their miscalculated arms and defences?"

He paused for a moment to let the phrase sink into Krystal's head and then answered his own question, "Yes, it is madness. And that's why I believe in it."

This was where Krystal was put off completely; it simply contradicted her logic. Mouth agape, she stared at Ghost as he flashed a smile at her bewilderment, before she summoned the strength to speak up, "But how can you believe that? And why can't I find a reason like yours to believe that we can win?"

In reply to this, Jakob leaned closer to her and looked her in the eye, "Because as long as you believe, you don't need to find a reason," he said enigmatically. Seeing that the young vixen was still clearly confused, he calmly elaborated this cryptic conclusion.

"A philosopher once lived on my planet, Krystal. And he had this to say about belief: "Belief is beyond how or why. Belief is beyond reason." I live by this philosophy. I choose to believe that we can win this, namely because the odds are as insane as they are. Claiming that my belief is madness has already identified it as being "beyond how or why". Why is this, you might ask. Because you can't logically argue for something that's madness. And hence, if we follow this philosopher's definition of belief, I can believe in it, even though others may think it is madness. As I said to you on Corneria before you went to confront Reevo, faith and logic must transcend each other. And if you can't find a reason for why you believe as you do, don't panic. Because that – the absence of reason – is the very essence of belief since it's "beyond reason" as I said before. So, have I helped you with this?"

To begin with, Krystal did not answer his interrogative enquiry. She simply stood completely still with her head slightly bowed, as if she had been frozen in time by some unseen force. But in reality, she was feeling the truth of his words sink into her mind like a soothing divine light, washing away the dark and obscuring fumes of doubt and uncertainty, which had plagued and clouded her mind for so long. The cerulean vixen felt it as if her worries were dissipating out of her mind, making her head lighter and clearer than before. And now, when she thought about their chances of winning, Krystal found that her hope flared with unsurpassed power and light in her mind, now that its lucidity was no longer dampened by uncertainty. As she came to realize this and lifted her head to look her friend in the eye, Krystal felt the black and jagged stone of concern, which had lodged itself firmly in her heart as the worries had built themselves up, loosen and fade to oblivion, making her high spirits return to her.

"I think", she whispered amazedly in so low a voice that Ghost had to lean very close to her to hear what she was saying because of all the other noises in the hangar, "that you've just cured me, Jakob!"

Jakob eyed her quizzically as he heard her rather strange way of saying that his philosophy had helped, "Cured you? Of what? The Psycho Worrying Syndrome?" he grinned, but was convinced that the young vixen before him was not joking when she laid a hand softly upon his shoulder in silent affection. In her emerald eyes blazed such a heartfelt appreciation of his deed that his heart involuntarily skipped a beat.

"No. Of soul-destroying darkness and heart-rending pain like few others could. It's such an admirable deed that I can't even find the words to thank you. Just promise me you'll be careful out there. I'd hate to lose you, my friend!" Krystal said softly, now placing her other hand on his other shoulder as well, shimmering tears starting to form and fall rapidly from her eyes, both because she was moved by the situation as well as sadness about Ghost's sudden departure.

It was clear that the commander had not expected it to be a matter of such great importance as the cerulean vixen now made it seem, for he gave her a cheerful smile and patted her softly on the shoulder with his gloved hand, as if to comfort her, "Hey, Krys, don't get all mushy on me now! My eyes get wet as well. It's the least I could do when I saw that one of my friends was in trouble!" he said convincingly and was about to continue when the intercom suddenly blared all over the hangar and cut him off.

"Attention! Commander Jakob, please report to the Arwing segment at the front of the left group. Your vessel stands ready to take you to The Valaria."

Heaving a pleasant sigh, Jakob gently removed Krystal's hands from his shoulders, "Well, I believe that was my call. And I will be careful out there, I promise. Good luck, Krystal, and watch yourself out there, all right? Not to mention Fox. Yeah, especially him. Perhaps I'll see you on the other side!" With that, the commander swiftly turned his back on the vixen and walked off, his trenchcoat billowing about his figure as he went through the hangar briskly and determinedly.

Even as he had rounded a corner and disappeared from her field of vision, Krystal kept staring after him, before she turned around with a sigh and began trudging her way back towards the others, her head bustling with thoughts, _"Yes, you are indeed a ghost, my friend. You come and go like one. But beneath that dark billowing veil, in which you shroud yourself, there lies a heart of gold and an unparalleled care for those you hold dear. Only your true friends know it, and only they will ever know it. I can't tell you how glad I am to be a part of those few, select lucky ones!" _the cerulean vixen thought contemplatively as she rounded yet another corner in the labyrinth of Arwings, not unlike the maze of her mind not so long ago, Jakob's final words still ringing in her head:

"_And watch yourself out there, all right? Not to mention Fox. Yeah, especially him."_


	6. Chp 4: Zero Hour

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Well, here I am again, giving you yet another brick in the wall that is CtA. And as I do this, I need to thank my incredibly supportive reviewers (again!) for the truly admirable work they're doing by reading and reviewing this story. I aim to bring you an entertaining and exciting story, and I hope my reviewers think that I've accomplished that goal. Reviews help me and make me better, so they're always welcome - good as well as... slightly more critical ones! ;-) Anyway, enough of my rambling; here's the next chapter, which some of you, I know, have been dying to read. After what might seem like a long wait, here it is, so... Enjoy!

**Chapter 4: Zero Hour**

From Peppy's log: _As usual, I'm the only one left when all the others from the teams are out. Well, of course, ROB's also here. And just outside my window, I can see our new ally in this conflict, The Valaria. Lucky for Ghost that he gets to work on that ship. But as much as I adore it, I can't bear the thought of leaving the Great Fox, should it come to that someday. And if any of those Venomians try to get smart with this ship, I'll show them just what the old girl can do!_

"Yo, Krys! Over here!" Saber called out and waved energetically from his cockpit as he saw the cerulean vixen approach their little gathering of Arwings. Krystal looked up and gave him a seraphic smile in return along with a wave, before she climbed aboard her own vessel. To her left was Fox, beaming contently at his newly returned love, along with Falco and Slippy a bit further to the left, and to her right was John, with Mikki in an Arwing slightly behind him. So overall, the young vixen concluded, she was in extremely good company.

"We've tried to keep your Arwing free for you, Krystal!" Shield shouted to her, receiving a cheerful smile from Krystal, who apparently thought the sergeant's statement to be a friendly joke. But when he saw this, Mikki shook his head strongly, as if to indicate that he was not making fun, "No, no, I'm serious! Some fruitcake of a wolf came here and began snooping around your Arwing, mumbling something about having to see your cockpit because of the re-arranging thing they're doing with the shields. But we told him to fuck off, so he might just have settled for repairs on the outside. Who knows, we didn't see where he went after that. So if you try and check the underside of your Arwing, don't be surprised if he jumps out in your face."

"What? What are you saying?" Krystal asked bewilderedly, all of her senses suddenly augmented to being on red alert. She had not heard of any repairs, which needed to be made on her ship lately, apart from the aforementioned shield repairs, which – as far as she knew – did not require access to the cockpit.

Ever since the destruction of her safe haven and home at Cerinia, the cerulean vixen had taught herself to look back over her shoulder more than once. On her journeys through the universe, Krystal had learned that no-one was to be trusted completely, and that you should always be on your guard, seeing as people, who allegedly only bore good intends, tried to double-cross you. And now, this primal fear had been awoken yet again with the news of a mysterious persona snooping around her fighter craft.

Cautiously, Krystal stepped out of her fighter again and peeked under the wing, all of her muscles tense and ready to act upon the slightest indication of danger. Nothing there. Frowning slightly, the young vixen searched the ship from front to back, with the same result. She was just about to look up and give a denying shrug, when an enthusiastic voice called out to her from across the hangar.

"Miss Krystal! Excuse me… Miss Krystal!"

Both Team Star Fox and G-Wing stared wonderingly at the figure, which approached their group with a hectic sprint after having called out to Krystal. The newcomer was a wolf, just as Mikki had mentioned, clearly distinguishable by the bushy tail, which protruded from his rear and flailed around uncontrollably behind him because of the wolf's frantic pace. The tail was of a deep, chestnut colour, as was the rest of his fur; a great contrast to the pale blue private's uniform and standard-issue Cornerian whitish military boots and flak-vest he was wearing. In his belt, a small holster with a light Cornerian infantry-blaster in it was slamming repeatedly against his hip as he ran. His slender build and the face with the slightly elongated muzzle gave him a cunning look by nature, as was the case with most Lylatian wolves, but it was in his energetically gleaming yellow eyes with slit-shaped, obsidian-black pupils that his true personality could be found. As he came to a halt in front of Krystal and saluted her, panting heavily, the short time the vixen had to look into his eyes, before he started shifting his gaze around uncomfortably, told her that this was an individual, with whom one should preferably tread lightly and carefully. In those eyes, she saw a spirit, which was never at rest, always altering itself to suit the surroundings, and thus a rather unpredictable personality.

As he regained his composure and started breathing normally, the wolf introduced himself to the astonished team-members, his husky voice taking on that same rushed nature as his entire being emanated, "I'm sorry if I seem a bit rash, everyone, but allow me to introduce myself. Private Cain Tyler, 205th Cornerian Airborne Division reporting! Forgive my seemingly impudent nature, but I just got so overwhelmed by seeing the legendary Star Fox Team actually here! I know we've been stationed on your ship, but the likelihood of a lowly recruit like me meeting some of the finest ace pilots in the entire Lylat System… well, let's just say it isn't that big!"

The recruit dropped his eyes shamefully before continuing in a slightly more dark tone of voice, "That is, I thought I would meet you before your new companions here", he let his wavering gaze settle upon Mikki and John, "most politely told me to "fuck off". Quite brashly done for a life form not even from Lylat!" Cain said condescendingly, eyeing the two humans with obvious distrust.

Upon hearing this insult, which pierced the seemingly impenetrable mental barriers of his self-esteem like an unstoppable sharpened arrow from the linguistic arsenal of his enemy, Saber's slumbering ego sprang to life in his mind in a roar of flames, angered as he was by the private's uncaring nature when the insolent lupine did not even have any idea who he had before him.

With animosity burning clearly in his narrowed eyes, John stared suspiciously at the wolf from his canopy, gesturing towards himself and Shield as he spoke, "Hey, you're talking to a lieutenant, private, and my buddy over there is a sergeant! I'd like you to maintain discipline, or else I might get very angry. And believe me, you won't like me when I'm angry!" he said with a sinister smirk upon his face.

If a Lylatian could pale with shock beneath all the layers of fur, this was probably what happened to Cain now, for he looked aghast at John and saluted him, his hand trembling slightly as he did so, the five long and razor-sharp claws – one at the end of each finger – producing a scratching sound as they were pressed softly against his fur. When he spoke, his voice was also quite shaken, and Krystal could not help but feel sympathy for him, being of such a kind-hearted nature as she was.

"I… I'm sorry, sir!" Cain stammered nervously, "I didn't know, obviously. I've only just arrived and this is the first time I've seen you. I didn't know at all that Pepper was beginning to employ people from other solar systems. Well, in that case, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, lieutenant… and sergeant!" he added, as he also saluted Mikki, who grinned before returning the greeting.

Having made sure that all of these controversies were cleared up by casting reassuring glances at Saber and Shield a few more times, Cain let his gaze settle upon Krystal again, seeing as she was the only Star Fox-member that it was easy for him to look in the eye because of her position on the ground in front of him. The recruit heaved a deep sigh and continued in his shameful, admitting tone of voice, "Anyway, when I got here, I used being a repairman as an excuse to stick around and look at the fabled Team Star Fox, but I was rather intimidated by the lieutenant and sergeant over there, so I decided to take my leave. The reason for my enthusiasm returned, however, when I saw you, Miss Krystal, approach the Arwings from whatever you had been doing. I called out to you, hoping that I could catch you just before the operation was due to commence and we should all return to our own Arwings. Actually, now that I'm confronted with Team Star Fox, I'd like to ask you, Miss Krystal, if I… if I could…"

Cain paused hesitantly, searching for the right words before he smiled slightly; a smile, which was presumably intended to be friendly, but nevertheless made Krystal feel uneasy, the cold hand of angst gripping her heart for the shortest of moments as the smile flashed across Cain's crafty, lupine visage.

"Oh, to heck with this…" the private mumbled sourly to himself before continuing the question from before, "if I could join your formation, squadron, whatever, when we make our offensive against the Venomians. I presume that each high-ranking member will get a number of Arwings under his or her command, and as such, I would be truly honoured if I could fly in a squadron under one of the revered Star Fox-members. I'll admit, my other Academy-buddies who were also selected for this assignment, already started making their squads even before we got here. Guess I'm just too slow to scream out what I think, and not one for pushing through aggressively when it comes to my opinion, eh?" Cain grinned jokingly, now seeming social enough, quite contrary to when he had been of a rather nervous and frightening demeanour only some minutes ago.

Being very alert to people's personalities and the impact of these on the mind of the individual, this sudden shift in mentality scared Krystal at first, automatically labelling Cain in her mind as an unpredictable and unstable person. But now, when she thought it through, strongly influenced by the kind-hearted nature and mentality resting deep within her very soul, she found that she perhaps had judged the young wolf too harshly, seeing as every recruit would probably be very nervous and unpredictable when he or she stood in front of this person's heroes in the flesh. Dismissing her fear as an overreaction on an energetic recruit's initial and logical nervousness, Krystal looked at him convincingly with her emerald eyes, as if to underline that there should be no doubt whatsoever in Cain's mind about the truth of what she was saying.

"For future reference, recruit, it's just Krystal, no "miss" first, okay? You may be slow to scream out what you think at the Academy, but I always listen to people when they talk to me, private. And sure, you can join my squadron. We can always use an extra pair of laser cannons!" she said enthusiastically to the recruit, who could not help but beam happily at her and give her a respectful salute before voicing his opinion on the subject.

"Thank you so much, mi… oh sorry, Krystal! Well, I'll head right back to my Arwing, then, and be ready to cover every inch of your ship when we're launched and rendezvous outside. And it was nice meeting you, Team Star Fox… and the lieutenant and sergeant back there!" the private shouted energetically and gave a quick salute to Mikki and John, which they answered, albeit a little lazily. Mouthing a last thank you to Krystal, Cain turned around and sprinted back towards his Arwing, skipping happily along the rows of Arwings to find his own.

As Shield had stopped waving after the energetic recruit, his face suddenly became glum as he leaned back in his pilot's seat, "See? Told you he was a fruitcake, Krys!" he grumbled, seemingly not pleased with Krystal's decision about letting Cain come along on her five-man squad. Krystal did not seem to take this decision as severely as Mikki; on the contrary, the young vixen merely smiled as she climbed aboard her craft.

"Nah, Shield, don't judge him too harshly. He was just a flustered recruit, who had just met the heroes of his life. I felt sad on his behalf, and I wanted to make him feel comfortable, since this is apparently the first combat situation of his life. Or that's the impression I got," Krystal said in a moralizing tone of voice as she answered Shield's exclamation. To her surprise, Fox also heaved a troubled sigh and looked at his love with a stern expression on his face.

"Your kind heart has never found an equal in the Lylat System, Krystal, and you should be proud of that heart. But also, you should watch out that it doesn't mislead you…" The golden-furred vulpine suddenly paused and blinked a couple of times in amazement, before he laughed to himself as he realized the absurdness of the linguistic style he was using to lecture Krystal with; a style he was not normally acquainted with using, "Oh my God, what am I saying? That was so "Ghost"-ish, man! No, Krys, what I mean is that you shouldn't trust anyone just because they're nice. They could try to use you, you know. But don't worry; you'll always have me to blast those nasty buggers down that try to harm you. If trouble comes, I hope you know that!" Fox said sincerely.

Krystal laughed with him as she heard him speak the first part of his little morale speech. Indeed, she thought, it was like hearing Ghost again, although he had just departed. But when Fox seriously made it clear that he would always stand vigilant by her side to protect her from harm, the young vixen looked at him contently.

"Yes, I know I have you, Fox!" she said gladly, hesitated, and then added much more convincingly, as if she would let no doubt be left in her love's mind that he was the only one for her and that she trusted him on whatever he said:

"I know I have you,"

---

With a distinctive blue and purple fluorescent afterglow spraying out from the exhaust ports of the Arwing's G-Diffusers, Jakob's craft streaked through the pitch-black void of space from the mouth-like hangar exit on the underside of the Great Fox, its ion-flux engines working at full capacity, leaving this easily visible trail of his flight path behind him. Even though the engines kept up their persistent hum, which threatened to disrupt the equilibrium of his peaceful mind, and although the spectacle of colours was quite vivid and fascinating to look at, Ghost did not focus on what was behind him, but rather on the unfathomably large object hanging in space in front of him, anticipating his arrival: The Valaria.

"_I'll be damned,"_ the commander thought to himself amazedly, _"Pepper must really have felt that I could be trusted if he gave me command of that thing!"_

And indeed, just like many others who had been exposed to the sight of the cruiser before him, his fascination was only understandable, for The Valaria was truly an impressive sight. Its long and slender, slightly rounded main body was of a sparkling white colour, which seemed to vaguely reflect the red light from Solar, the great and ancient sun of the Lylat System. Whereas the Great Fox was a bit tall and clunky, The Valaria was more slim and streamlined. Almost as if they were markers to guide any spectator's gaze towards the cockpit, the main body of the ship was illuminated by many small rows of windows, where a strong yellow light burned from inside the ship; or that was at least the impression one got when hanging in space. If one's gaze then drifted to the bridge, one would find that it was of the exact same construction as the Great Fox, triangular and with a narrow window on the front. This bridge was not elevated above the rest of the cruiser by a supporting passageway as on the Great Fox; on the contrary, this bridge was almost on level with the ship itself.

The back of the cruiser was the most intriguing part, and also proved that the Cornerians did try to think innovatively after all. A thin wing protruded from the top, the sides and the underside of the ship respectively, but where this design differed from that of the Great Fox was that these wings curved slightly into a hook-shaped form, their tips almost joining at the very back of the craft. The reason for them not joining together was the massive ion-and-fuel propulsion engine, which had come into place there, complete with smaller manoeuvring engines at the sides for fast acceleration in a particular direction. Since The Valaria was flying at a low pace, the engine was only giving off a relatively small light green flame. As Ghost noticed that it was a flame and not an ion trail, which was coming out of the craft, he was puzzled at first. But the feeling of scepticism rapidly dissipated to be replaced by fascination yet again as he eyed the magnificent ship in its entirety and all its splendour. When watched from a distance, the form of The Valaria almost resembled a giant, white spear drifting idly through space, driven by a green flame at its base adorned with curving wings, the red rays of Solar being reflected vaguely in the pearly white hull and refracted in the invisible distortions of the energy shield, making it seem as if the star-cruiser were ablaze with a slow, crimson fire.

And of course, this spectacular sight was stunningly beautiful in itself, but as Jakob smoothly turned his Arwing around in a sickle-shaped curve to dock at the hangar at the side of the ship, his eyes were also drawn to the impressive weaponry, with which this pinnacle of Cornerian technology was bristling. Four torpedo-tubes designed for the new Star Slayer-torpedoes lined the underside of the craft, two at each side of the somewhat majestic dual Ionized Plasma Cannons, which also protruded from the underside of the cruiser. Jakob had read about these weapons in the research-file, and had it not been for the miscalculations in particle acceleration, which he presumed to be fixed by now, he would have judged these weapons as being some of the best that the Cornerian Army had ever made. Now, with the miscalculations out of the way, he was anxious to see if he was right.

The large cannons were similar in structure to those, which adorned the front of the Great Fox. These were also obsidian-black and slender, only their tips were more sharply constructed and encased in a fabulously opalescent, transparent crystalline matrix, which was sparkling with all the magnificent hues of the rainbow as the rays of Solar were refracted in it, revealing all the colours of the visible spectrum in one breathtaking chaotic glimmer of hues. However pretty it seemed, the crystalline matrix was not on the cannons solely for the purpose of fancy decoration. Ionized Plasma Cannons – or IPCs as they were commonly known among weapon experts and ship crews – were a frighteningly devastating piece of anti-capital-ship artillery, recently invented by the Cornerian Army.

Shortly before the offensive against the Venomian Remnant, the always active scientists in the Army had found a way to ionize the conventional plasma particles found in the energy cells for various plasma-driven weapons, making the resulting energy output from the plasma weapon up to fifty times stronger when fully charged. Since they did not want to adopt this technology to their arms-industry yet, at least not until it had been proved absolutely combat-worthy and any possible side effects in combat had been documented, the scientists decided to use it on one of their newest ships, seeing as it was already being equipped with every other new discovery they made, acting as a guinea pig for the Cornerian officials in this offensive, so to speak. And naturally, this ship was The Valaria.

However, one side effect had been proved and noted by the scientists. In the initial tests of the weapon, they had discovered that the extra energy, which was suddenly given to the plasma particles by ionizing them, originated from interior processes occurring within the particles upon ionization, where countless photons were formed, rich on potentially destructive energy. After experimenting with small-scale models of cannons designed for cruisers, the scientists found – much to their chagrin – that when these plasma particles were energized and sent through the preferred weapon, a lot of the newly gained energy from the ionization was lost due to a heavy emission of photons from the plasma ray while it was charged at the front of the ray-cannon, and also in the area just outside the tip of the gun. The Cornerian scientists then figured that they had to develop a means to disrupt the overflow of energy-rich photons from the plasma, thus inventing the beautiful crystalline matrix, in which they encased the tips of the Ionized Plasma Cannons. This matrix was invented as a result of the intense study in electromagnetic energy and the behavioural and physical opposites of matter and anti-matter, resulting in no further escape of photons from the plasma accelerator. When fully charged, a blast from an IPC could easily contain energy equal to approximately 256 Giga-Joule, more than enough to blow even the sturdiest Venomian capital ship to tiny pieces.

Furthermore, the scientists had made another nifty little gadget for these cannons. Built into the tip was a small radio transmitter, which was preset to emit waves set to the specific "toppling"-frequency. This frequency made it possible to throw any shield- and data-controlling system onboard the targeted enemy vessel into disarray as the cannons were fired, creating a hole in the energy shield for just as much time as was needed to make the blast slip through unhindered. With all these features, it was safe to say that the IPCs made up some of the most lethal weaponry in Lylat.

And if everything else failed, The Valaria still possessed the Star Slayer-torpedoes. If one was taken out of its storing tube and studied intently, it was not particularly hard to understand why it had acquired a certain measure of renown in the Army. Its sleek, streamlined and blue-black body adorned with triangular stabilizing fins, combined with its relatively flat and pointed black tip where all the homing and targeting information was stored in one small microprocessor upon launch, almost made this deadly piece of explosive ordnance resemble a majestic and noble, but at the same time immensely threatening, interstellar shark as it glided ominously through the pitch-black space with a low hiss from the small ion-propulsion engine, its shadowy form becoming but a blur in the coal-black immensity of the void, heading straight for the enemy capital ship, which could do almost nothing but raise shields and prepare for impact.

The Star Slayers were designed to be resistant to various types of enemy radar- and homing jamming, not to mention a small amount of EMP-flak specifically designed to throw torpedoes off course. It was expected that with their speed and manoeuvrability, the torpedoes could reach their designated target before an intensive amount of flak was fired. Ironically enough, the Cornerian Army had used the EMP-countermeasure as an active offensive weapon against their enemies in this very torpedo. The Valaria had been loaded with four different classes of Star Slayer-torpedoes, but the EMP-feature was only present in one of them.

It went all the way from the small Class I, a standard homing torpedo with a normal payload which was easily accessible and came in large numbers, to Class II with an upgraded homing system and a slightly larger payload, to Class III which held an advanced guidance system and a competent enough payload to navigate through turret defences and eradicate a well-armed medium cruiser in maximum two runs, to the supreme – and also least available – Class IV, a behemoth in size, but with considerable strength to match.

In addition to packing an enormous payload, the size of which could easily result in the complete obliteration of medium-class vessels and the extensive – if not often fatal – damaging of heavy cruisers and carriers, the Class IV also boasted a state-of-the-art gyroscopic navigational and homing system, enabling it to target whatever minute part of a ship was preferred, avoid navigational hazards as it flew on its course and deliver its destructive power with unwavering accuracy. To help it succeed in this endeavour, small sensors on the outside of the weapon produced an advanced electromagnetic disruptive field around the torpedo, allowing it to pass through nearly all but the most advanced types of energy shields unhindered. And this was where the Cornerian utilization of the EMP-technology came into play, for as it connected with its target, the Class IV would also detonate an electromagnetic pulse along with its conventional ordnance, leaving the enemy vessel crippled when it came to automated defences – for example shields, navigational software or automated turret defences – , severely damaged and open to attack. The Class IV was indeed a godly weapon, but it was also very resource-consuming for the Cornerian Army to manufacture these harbingers of death, so they were better saved for heavily fortified opponents that really deserved it. On The Valaria, only five Class IVs were stored.

Remembering these weapon details within his head as he flew, Ghost suppressed a grin of mad glee as he suddenly realized which lethal force he would soon be in charge of. But this fleeting rush of power was soon replaced by his usual exactness and focused determination, as the commander softly guided his Arwing through the slightly rippling aquamarine energy barrier, which seemed to be standard in front of the hangar on every Cornerian craft. And when that happened, he felt it as if he crossed the borderline between the realm of floating thought in space where there was no floor, ceiling or anything concrete to think about, and entered into the material realm, in this case the hangar of The Valaria.

And it was as he did this that his usual commander-mentality clicked back into place and replaced the mad feeling of unlimited power. Whoever was onboard this ship were not his slaves for him to command. He had a responsibility towards these Lylatians, and although they followed his orders because of his rank, they were still able to think for themselves, and he would certainly let them voice their opinion. Mentally reaching down into the swirling hazes of his cerebrum before opening the canopy and exiting his craft, Jakob searched for the very morality and conscience, which had spoken to him just before. He wanted to make sure that it was really his ego, which was saying that, and not just some weak guise and flash of apparent rationale to cover up for his hidden lust for power.

And he needed not trouble himself with worrying, for he had no dark or hidden lust for power, no shadow spreading its corrupting darkness across his thoughts; only a clear conscience. He found it at no time, gleaming up at him from beneath the clear mental mists of rational and logical thoughts. Pleasantly aware that he was not going crazy about obtaining more power than had been bestowed upon him by Pepper already, Ghost smiled serenely to himself, dismissing his previous and sudden power-lusty jolt of thoughts as a reaction of pure excitement because of the new job. He then climbed down the first two steps of the ladder leading from the cockpit and onto the ground before he jumped past the last couple of steps and landed smoothly on the ground, his trenchcoat billowing as he stood up and pressed a button on his Arwing-remote to make the canopy shut and lock itself. The commander then looked around expectantly, trying to comprehend what kind of ship he was about to lead.

The hangar in itself was vast like the cruiser, its immense cavity almost overwhelming him to the point of doubting whether this was real or not. As he had seen it done in the hangar of the Great Fox before he left, the Arwings aboard this ship were also lined up in two separate groups, one at each wall, forming a kind of aisle down the middle. Only here, the number of Arwings was considerably larger than on the Great Fox. As far as he could judge, Jakob estimated them to number a total of seventy, excluding his own Arwing, which had landed slightly in the back of the room, as not to hinder the other ships if they were to be launched. The hangar itself was not fancily decorated or anything else, which might appear untraditional in a hangar. It was a room for starting and landing ships, not for staying in for a long time, and its appearance showed it. The floor of the room was a dull grey, accentuated further by the white walls and ceiling of the large hangar. Everywhere on the floor, cables wormed their way around and under the Arwings like sinister mechanical serpents. Auxiliary power tools, laser welders, spare generators and other miscellaneous repairing items were strewn around on the floor haphazardly, giving the impression that extensive repairs were performed often on the ships here, despite The Valaria's short time of service in the Cornerian Army.

The only exit from this still and dull room was a single door in the wall, which Ghost now turned to face. And as he did so, it slid open with a hiss of compressed air, revealing one of the crewmembers on The Valaria, who was walking calmly into the hangar to greet his new superior.

At first glance, the steel-grey or silvery fur, which seemed to hold an inexplicable and fascinating argent lustre, the bushy tail and the tightly fitting black and aquamarine battledress might deceive the one who was being confronted by the lupine to think that it was the notorious Wolf O'Donnell in the flesh, the leader of the brutal mercenary force known as Star Wolf. But when one eyed the tall and slender young wolf a bit closer, one would find that he did not possess the same glint of blithe disregard to law and order in his ice-blue eyes and his slim, lupine visage. On the contrary; these eyes emanated a pure desire to uphold the law at any cost, be it by utterly massacring the enemy or sacrificing his own life. From the first time Jakob laid eyes on him, he liked the valorous and zealous attitude, which seemed to emanate from the lupine.

The wolf stopped a few paces away from Ghost and saluted him respectfully, a gesture which was returned promptly by the commander, "Commander Jakob?" he asked enquiringly, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he was talking to a human from a far-away foreign solar system, and Jakob nodded affirmatively in response before the grey-furred lupine continued, "Ah, good, then all is as it should be. Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I'm lieutenant-commander Tobey Williams of the Cornerian Army, your second in command and weapons officer here onboard The Valaria. She's quite a ship, eh sir?" Williams grinned proudly, obviously content with being stationed on such a state-of-the-art cruiser.

"Indeed she is, lieutenant-commander, indeed she is. And I'm looking forward to seeing her in action," Jakob smiled, "Now, I believe we have a rather urgent assignment coming up, and I would very much like to get acquainted with the rest of the people I'll be working with. Perhaps this could be solved?"

"Certainly, sir!" Williams said enthusiastically as he gestured towards the door, which he had come out of only a few minutes ago, and which now revealed itself to be a lift, "If you would follow me, then I'll show you to the bridge where your place is. The others are also looking forward to making your acquaintance. Anxiously, I might add."

As the twosome had stepped into the lift, the door closed again with this characteristic hiss of air, almost making it seem as if the spirit of a snake had infested the closing mechanism, before the compact metal box rose swiftly upwards, emitting nothing but a pleasant hum from the hidden machinery. While this lasted, thoughts of insecurity were swirling through the commander's mind, although his placid and relaxed demeanour acted as an effective external guise for this mental conflict. What of Mikki and John? Would they be able to take care of themselves in the middle of the inferno that would undoubtedly break loose as they engaged the Venomians?

"_Why are you worrying, you twat? You've known them for so long, and you know full well that they're perfectly able to handle themselves, both in Arwings and on the ground. Sure, they have their moments of bickering with each other even in the midst of battle, but good friends do that all the time. They'll be fine, and you know it!"_ he mentally shot back at his worried mind. But as those thoughts dissipated, more just seemed to come, this time of Krystal: Had she really been cured of the dilemma that had haunted her soul, or was it still there, nagging her and clouding her judgement when she needed it the most? And what of the other Star Fox-members? Could they handle the problem it would be if Krystal broke down in the field?

As much as Jakob tried to suppress the obtrusive thoughts, he soon found that they flooded his mind and did what he feared the most: Clouded his judgement at a time where he needed all the decisiveness and peace of mind that he could get. And it looked as if these haunting worries would truly take over his thoughts, until the commander made up his mind.

"_This is no time to dwell at those memories of angst. Begone!"_ he mentally shouted to the chaos within his wayward mind, followed by a resolute blast of stout determination, attempting to still the voices within his head. And it worked, for the raving mad gibberish of disturbed thoughts faded instantly, giving way for a new thought.

"_Hmm… I wouldn't be surprised if Krystal felt that, with that psycho-ESP of hers."_

---

"All personnel; prepare for launch procedures! Return to your Arwings, buckle up and prepare to deploy!" the intercom of the Great Fox blared all over the hangar.

"Heh, no need for us to do that!" Mikki yawned and stretched as he leaned back in his comfortable pilot's seat, "We're already here." It was this ability to do something crucial long before a big event that had saved many a stressful situation for the sergeant, and as he saw the last recruits or sergeants from the Cornerian Army running around frantically like confused ants in the maze of Arwings to locate their own, Shield could not help but pity them.

The sergeant was quickly brought back from his rather absent and contemplative state of mind by John's continuous discussion with Krystal next to him; not about anything ethical, but the layout for the whole mission. Apparently, Saber had overheard the clear instructions given by Pepper in his usual haziness, "O… kay, let me get this straight: We fly out row after row, obviously, but then what? And what was it Pepper said? Did we have a squadron with us? Woo-hoo, backup!" the lieutenant grinned sheepishly, raising his arms above his head in approval, seemingly not realizing what kind of misinterpretation of the general's message he had just made..

"Actually, I can both answer yes and no to that, John. And I would maybe also recommend you to open your ears a bit more in the future," Krystal said knowingly to him, "Yes, we have a squadron with us, but no, they aren't someone from the outside who'll just be working alone. You'll be in charge of five of them! Don't worry, they've already been told who their leader is, so they'll find you by themselves," she beamed. However, the obvious enthusiasm of the young vixen only earned her a puzzled look from the lieutenant.

"Wait… so you're saying that my wing's made up of five of those noobs down there?" he asked incredulously, gesturing towards the gathering of Arwings, "Hmm… oh well, I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that they're not nearly as cool as I am!" John said complacently, receiving a provocative glare from Falco.

"Hey, Saber, it's no use saying what you aren't. In this case I mean "cool". I believe we all know that I'm the coolest pilot ever to streak across Lylat!" the blue-feathered avian said self-righteously, donning a big smirk as he saw the flame of hurt pride and feeling of retribution ignite itself in John's eyes. Falco's insult had hit just where he wanted it to: Saber's unfathomably large ego. Any insult towards it was cause for the lieutenant to become extremely irate. And now was no exception. Fully aware that the battle of coolness still raged between him and Falco, John eyed the avian with a megalomaniacal glint in his eyes as he started talking in a fast and hushed voice because of anger and excitement.

"Alright, Falco, you brought this on yourself, man! Let's compare kills! Let's compare kills for this mission. Nothing measures your coolness like the ability to take down a ton of flying psychos. Are you up to it, or are you afraid that I'm just going to whoop your ass so profoundly that they can hear it all the way to frigging Fortuna?" the lieutenant taunted with a wry and sinister smile on his face, his challenge being confirmed by a very audible and affirmative "Deal!" from Falco.

All this time, as the perpetually fighting comrades in arms had made yet another daring and joking plan to decide, which one of them was the coolest – a competition that she did not grasp at all – Krystal sat with her eyes closed and a hand to her forehead, trying to identify that violent black surge of mental coldness and confusion, which had just hit her mind. She could feel it smash forcefully against her mental defences of unbending willpower like an impending tidal wave held back by an unyielding seawall.

"Krys? What's wrong?" Fox said, immediately recognizing that haunted and exasperated look on her face that she got so often when dealing with mental problems.

"Yeah, Krystal, what is it?" Slippy asked her concernedly. Though she was clearly Fox's love, every member of Team Star Fox cared about Krystal as if she had travelled with them since the days of the Lylat Wars and was as well-known to the crew as if she had been with them from that time. Even Falco did this, although he rarely showed it, the result of such soft feelings being damage to his precious ego and high self-esteem. The main cause for this was the overly gentle and caring manner of the cerulean vixen, which quite seemed to have left her right now. She was fiercely struggling to restore order to the mishmash of garbled thoughts, which she could suddenly sense intrude upon her mind. As she gradually cleared out the nature of the thoughts, Krystal could identify them as worries; sinister and grave worries at that, originating from a mind outside the Great Fox. A mind she knew full well and had probed earlier today.

"It's alright, guys!" she said reassuringly as she opened her eyes, letting the light of understanding shine through her mind, dissolving all the intruding worries now that she had found out what they were, "I was just flooded with another person's worries. Yes, Saber, that sometimes happens when you're a telepath!" Krystal said impatiently in response to the quizzical look the lieutenant sent her. How that could happen to anyone was completely beyond him.

"Anyway, I deciphered them, and… they were from Ghost. He hasn't forgotten about us, you know. That job at the cruiser hasn't made him a solitary and egoistic loner as some of us feared. He's thinking if we'll get through this safely, if we'll all be alright after this. And that's just another reason to fly to the limit of our skills and convince him that he doesn't have to worry!" she shouted, not minding that her voice quavered slightly with emotion as she said it, a single shimmering tear forming in the corner of her eye because of the immense importance it had to her peace of mind to know that he still thought about them, while not being present among them.

Mikki smiled widely and contently as he heard this; he had never doubted his friend's loyalty, "Yeah, Krystal, that's my dude right there!" he grinned, "Always concerned and worried. But hey, he can do his cruiser-thing, and then we can do our flying. Heck, he'll be there to watch over us with some awesome psycho-cannons! You see, nothing to worry about!"

John opened his mouth as well to contribute to the discussion, and he voiced his appreciation in a rather unusual way, as it was always the case with him, "Hell, he may be able to steer a cruiser and give orders, but if he doesn't count my kills so I'm sure that Falco doesn't cheat, I'll slap him around in this hangar when he comes back, and they'll be able to hear it on Macbeth, not just Fortuna!" he said with a wry smile on his face, provoking some hesitant grins from the others.

"Attention! Time until launch elapsed. Automatic cockpit-closing initiated!" the metallic voice of ROB droned out from the intercom. He was presumably linked to the main computer, so that he could tamper with both the intercom as well as any ship docked in the hangar. When a ship docked, information about it was sent to the mainframe of the Great Fox, giving ROB authority to make decisions for the ship independently, which the ship-computer just had to follow blindly. And this was one of those times, for each and every Arwing-canopy in the hangar closed itself with a humming, which was intensified to a deafening ruckus as thirty-six Arwings closed their canopies simultaneously. And then, Peppy's voice took over again, saying the phrase, which officially started the whole operation.

"Row One, left segment, prepare for launch!"

Even though the canopies of their cockpits were closed, and despite the fact that their Arwings were parked in a row for themselves at the back of the hangar, every member of Star Fox and G-Wing could clearly hear the muffled roar as five slumbering G-Diffusers were woken simultaneously.

---

"Commander on the deck!"

The synchronic shout echoed out from the two other occupants of the bridge on The Valaria when they saw Jakob and lieutenant-commander Williams enter. The two Lylatians, a male husky and a female arctic fox, immediately sprang to attention and saluted, holding their tense positions for a long time afterwards, waiting for Ghost to reply, seemingly undaunted by the fact that this young human – not even a native Lylatian – should oversee their work and make decisions for them in times of need. He also saluted them and then let his gaze pass them, a wondering look being present in his eyes.

"At ease, people!" he said, flashing them a smile of admiration as they entered some more relaxed positions, "Wow! That's what I call proper discipline. You must never have had any problems at all with your superiors in your military career. Now, the zero hour of our pressing engagement with the Venomians is inevitably drawing nearer, I'm afraid, and when it's upon us, I believe it'll be central and integral to us – if not vital – to know a bit about each other. You do know lieutenant-commander Williams here, I assume, so here's a bit about me. Oh, and be warned, I'm rather talkative.

"The Earth-name's Jakob, but you can also call me Ghost, the code-name I've been issued here in Lylat, or simply "commander" or "sir", if you so please. Whatever you call me is entirely up to you, and whatever you say works for me!" he grinned, "Some say I've got a strange accent, not to mention the attributes to master this job, which I think mainly consist of a calm and contemplative mind, so – apparently – that's what I have. I'm also interested in physics and philosophy, only on an amateur basis, however, and I can prove it to you. During our walk to the bridge here, Williams and I talked about the engines on this ship, and how they give off a green flame instead of an ion trail. I asked him about the fuel used to power this vessel, and he told me that, in order to improve performance, power and manoeuvrability when using the auxiliary engines, the Army had decided to use fuel instead of ion-engines, seeing as fuel was more stable for this type of cruiser. Furthermore, the fuel had been enhanced by adding a large quantum of ionized silver, however that might help in enhancing or augmenting any improvement in performance. And there's the explanation. When silver burns, be it in an ionized or solid condition, the flame becomes a vibrant green, like the one on this very cruiser!"

The commander paused to let this clarification sink into the heads of his audience, before he leaned slightly forwards to inspect his crew, "And now that I've introduced myself, I'd like to know who you are!" he said interrogatively. Immediately, one of his duty-ready crewmembers spoke up.

"Ensign Kyra Hawthorne, sir! Navigator, technical supervisor and radar-analyst!" the young arctic fox said curtly and concisely. But although the vixen almost snapped her reply at him with military precision, her smooth and melodic voice did not seem to bear any sharp edges of impatience or anger, merely just wanting to be precise and to-the-point. The soft and wondrously ringing melody in her voice contributed to the speculation within Jakob's head that Kyra might indeed be a nice person to get to know. She was tall and of a slender build, while at the same time not being frightfully thin. Her fur was of the purest white colour that Ghost had ever seen in a fur, pure as untouched or freshly fallen snow without a stain or blemish of any kind, not even a single black fur hair to spoil the impeccable whiteness, making it seem as if the air around the arctic fox were rendered with a visible – and yet also somehow tangible – lustre of clarity because of her perfectly stainless white fur. Her lissom figure was further accentuated by the tightly fitting crimson battledress she wore, and her sapphire eyes, which complemented her fur very nicely, looked expectantly at Ghost as she had introduced herself.

Her expectance was rewarded with an appreciative smile and nod from her new human superior, "Very good, Ensign Hawthorne. I look forward to seeing you demonstrate your skills. And who might you be?" he enquired, turning his head slightly to face the husky at the other side of the front of the bridge. But whereas Kyra occupied the radar-installations to the right, the husky was seated by the control column and flight accelerators to the left.

The elderly canine showed his teeth and sharp fangs in a wry grin, before he raised his paw to his temple. His fur was coloured a dull grey, almost the same slightly dark grey as Ghost's battledress, but somehow this also fitted nicely with the dark green uniform in which he was clad. His head was typical for a husky, streaks of silvery fur lining the long fur at the top of his head as an undeniable sign of age, the long, slightly square-shaped muzzle protruding from his face just atop the easily noticeable and powerful jaws, the skin and fur lying tightly across the cheek- and jawbones, muscles bulging underneath, evidencing that the force of this husky was to be found in his bite if he decided to use it. But as the commander eyed him, Jakob came to the conclusion that the husky was not likely to fly out of his chair and fiercely maim the nearest being with his bite. On the contrary, the husky was of a relaxed and equable demeanour, which was most noticeably present in his ocean-blue eyes, almost seeming to radiate calmness all around the bridge.

"Larry Jackson, Lieutenant 1st Class, sir!" the elderly canine growled in a spectacular and rather gruff voice in contrast to Kyra's melodious one, "Capital ship-expert and the best damned pilot ever to fly this heap of junk that they call The Valaria… which actually is a pretty great ship!" he added, smiling wryly as he saw the bafflement, which crept onto the commander's face as he heard the lieutenant refer to the state-of-the-art cruiser as a "heap of junk".

But then, as the initial shock about this joke had waned, it gave way for a pleasant feeling of light-heartedness inside Ghost's gut as he realized that Jackson was just joking, this feeling spreading through his body like a soothing and tranquilizing warmth. Eyeing the lieutenant contently, being pleased about his obvious wit, Jakob replied to the sarcastic remark with something that initially sounded like cold and uncaring animosity, but gradually changed to be the warm and tender tome of appreciation, "Well, if you consider it such a heap of junk, why don't you just leave right now? I'll tell you. Because no-one else here, including me, knows how to fly this thing properly, and you do. So I would be very depressed if you left us before your skills have been fully put to use, Lieutenant Jackson. Glad to have you with me!"

The commander suddenly stopped the momentary praising of his new crew to lapse into a state of silent contemplation. During his walk of the long, carpeted corridors of the cruiser with Williams, he had only seen very few other Lylatians aboard the vessel. This made him ponder, for the number of other officials he had seen could never total the seventy Arwings in the hangar, and as such, this made him wonder if The Valaria was without pilots for the time being, if it was himself who was wrong in his judgement concerning the number of Arwings, or something completely different.

"Say… where are all the other pilots? I think I counted seventy Arwings in the hangar besides my own, but when I walked up here, I only saw ten or twenty other crewmembers," Ghost said confusedly. Williams regarded him with a slightly surprised look on his face before he turned his gaze back towards the window on the bridge, through which he had been staring.

"I thought you knew, sir. They're all on standby in a room near the hangar, waiting for you to give the signal to launch, all seventy of them. But maybe you won't even have to. The Great Fox is deploying its forces right now, and I must say that they look rather efficient. Why don't you step over here and see for yourself, sir?" Williams asked tentatively. Curiously, Jakob moved closer to the window and looked through it, out at their allied vessel. And what he saw clearly impressed him.

Against the pitch-black backdrop of space sparkling with stars, not minding the few places on its hull where it had been scorched by laser blasts, the Great Fox almost resembled a supernatural angelic entity with its radiant white colour and the four triangular wings, which protruded from it. And from this angelic entity, emissaries of justice were spurting forth. Row after row of five Arwings blasted out from the opening on the underside of the capital ship. When seven of these rows had escaped, no more of them came. Instead, Ghost could hear the chatter flourish in his standard comlink, which was almost an indispensable part of his uniform; the earpiece with the long and slim microphone hanging along his cheek. Naturally, John was the first to speak up energetically to his squadron.

"Alright, guys, let's just fly over to that other cruiser right there and form up. My friend's onboard, and I'd just like to check how that new position suits him. Maintain your frigging formation until I get back!" Saber shouted to his squadron who replied with nervous affirmative phrases. He was followed by Mikki shortly after.

"Man, I'd also like to check that new ship out… And Ghost as well!" he said, and suddenly mumbled "Alright, I'll do that!" after a moment, possibly a reply to a request, which Jakob could not hear.

A few moments later, two Arwings banked round the cruiser in a wide arc, the afterglow from their ion-flux engines further underlining the manoeuvre. They came to a halt just outside the window to the bridge, so close that Jakob could make out the happily grinning visages of his friends through the cockpit windows.

"Hey man!" Shield shouted enthusiastically, his voice crackling in Jakob's comlink, "Shit, that stone-cold cruiser-commander image totally suits you!"

"What the fuck are you saying, Shield?" Saber shouted demonstratively, "I mean, just look at you, Ghost! "Oh, look at me! I'm really extraordinary because I'm the commander of a frigging cruiser, and I've got giant psycho-cannons and a crew to command!" John sneered mockingly with a smirk on his face and a taunting imitation of Jakob's British accent in his voice.

To this, Ghost only responded with a thin serene smile before saying appreciatively into the comlink, "I'm glad that you're happy on my behalf, Shield, and that you think I'm fit for this job. Thanks! As for you, Saber", he said sharply, glaring at his lieutenant friend, "wipe that smirk off your face! Was that irony and possibly envy that I sensed in your voice? Well, just know that someday when you least expect it, I'll bet that Pepper will put you in charge of a unit of your own for your heroic efforts. And then you'll see what it really feels like to be commanding someone."

John was quiet after this rant, but mumbled shortly afterwards, apparently realizing his own rashness, "Alright… but could you count my kills for me, please? I've…"

The lieutenant was cut off as Jakob finished his sentence for him; he knew what the problem was, "… made another bet with Falco about which one of you was the coolest, your coolness being measured by your kills in the upcoming offensive. Am I right?" he asked enquiringly. Seeing Saber's confirming and somewhat reluctant nod, Ghost turned around to face his technical supervisor and radar-analyst, "Hawthorne, could you do me a favour and mark that craft right there? You know, to keep track of its exact number of kills?" he asked her, pointing to the bleep on the radar which was John's Arwing.

"Of course, sir!" the young arctic vixen answered happily, punching in a few quick commands on the console next to her. Immediately, Saber's Arwing glowed a distinct red on the radar, which Kyra did not hesitate to inform Jakob about, "Craft has been marked for scanning and counting of enemy casualties by our ship computer, sir!"

"Excellent. Good work, ensign!" the commander said appreciatively before turning back towards the window to face his friends, "In case you didn't hear that, Saber, I just ordered my radar-analyst to mark you. Our ship computer will automatically monitor you and calculate your progress in your killing spree!" he grinned.

This was promptly followed by a seraphic smile and an exclamation of happiness from the lieutenant, "Yay! Thanks, J-man! Now that bragging jerk Falco can't lie to me about my kills. So I guess there's one good thing about that cruiser, then!" he smiled complacently.

"Whatever! Now get back to your squadrons, you two! I bet they're eagerly waiting for you," Ghost said jokingly, waving faintly as Saber blasted off with a "See ya!", afterburners on full throttle. Mikki, however, hovered in front of the window a little longer as he desperately tried to remember what it was that he had promised. Finally, it came to him like lightning from the sky.

"Oh yeah, now I remember! I knew there was something I should do. I promised Krystal to give you her best wishes for this mission and let you know that she's thinking about you, dude!" he said and smiled wryly, finding it a bit funny that Krystal always remembered her friend, no matter how far he was from her.

Moved by Krystal's overwhelming compassion, which this selfless act from her demonstrated, Jakob momentarily found his thoughts straying to fond memories of the young cerulean vixen, before he resolutely forced his wayward mind to concentrate on the current situation.

"_Hmm… How thoughtful of her! Why not return the favour?"_ he thought, before saying sincerely into the comlink, "Thanks, Shield. Really, I mean it. If you come in contact with Krystal again, give her the same wishes from me!"

"You got it, sir! I will surely tell her that. Good luck!" Shield said faithfully, before his Arwing also accelerated and sped off with a vibrant and colourful band of fluorescent ionized exhaust forming behind it.

Heaving a pleasant sigh, the commander turned around to face his crew when a call came over the fleet-wide comlink from Peppy on the Great Fox, "Attention all ships! Prepare hyperspace jump engines for departure to the coordinates I'm sending you now. We're moving out to teach these Venomians a lesson once and for all! All fighter squadrons, form up around your respective flagships. And don't forget that we have Team G-Wing with us this time, so we have an ace up our sleeve that the Venomians don't expect. Good luck!" Peppy concluded sincerely before terminating the connection. As the comlink was once again silent, Jakob found his head to be bustling with new thoughts, started by Peppy's information.

"_So, this is it, just as Saber said before we left. The greatest battle of our time… and, unwittingly, I've been put in a central role here on this ship, even without Krystal to help me. What a strange feeling of... emptiness there is where she should usually be. I feel it as if my back's uncovered without her here... Well, I'm probably just a bit nervous, that's all. And even though I've never tried to command an entire ship before, I can only try to let it come to me gradually,"_ Ghost thought contemplatively, but then steeled himself and focused on the present situation. Outside the window, Arwings were frantically darting around like grotesquely oversized fireflies to get to the places where they should be before the entire army division warped out to confront the Venomians.

Seeing this immediate chaos among the fighters before the jump, Jakob estimated that it was not too late to check up on the progress of his own crew. And, almost automatically, his mind began thinking in the ways necessary to do this, ending up with a simple solution. Clearing his throat to get attention, he concluded concisely and authoritatively what he wanted, "Alright; we'll be moving out soon, and all the other ships are prepping for departure. I thought that we might as well do the same, so let's take a system check. Hawthorne?" he asked commandingly, looking enquiringly at the young vixen sitting at the radar controls.

"Radar and scanner are normal, no jamming or interference detected; coordinates have been stored in the ship memory and locked on the sector map. Ready to jump to the destination, sir!" the arctic fox answered matter-of-factly, and Kyra could not help but smile widely as her superior nodded and cocked an eyebrow in surprise and admiration of her talent.

"Brilliant, ensign! Jackson?" Jakob asked, turning to face the husky at the control column.

"Main and auxiliary engines working at one hundred percent capacity. No start-up failures or engine anomalies detected. Hyperdrive and ETAD pumped up and ready to jump! Let's fire this baby up, sir!" Jackson grinned, clearly feeling at home by the controls.

"Outstanding, lieutenant! Williams?" Ghost asked the wolf at the weapon controls in the middle of the long control panel at the front of the bridge. He was not startled by uncertainty about Jackson mentioning ETAD, since he had read about this in the research-file, also. This was an acronym for the device known as an Engine Time Accelerating Device, a nifty little gadget which the Cornerian Army had attached to the side of the normal hyperdrive in The Valaria as well as the Great Fox when it was built, claiming that it should fasten the vessel's travel through the treacherous hyperspace by accelerating the relative time in hyperspace, using almost the same time- and gravity-distorting effects found in a black hole. Despite its relative commonness in modern Lylatian spaceships, only a few observant minds realized that the device was actually there.

Williams glanced up at the commander from his instruments and then reported casually, "IPCs are primed and ready to go, no plasma anomalies detected. Star Slayers of all classes have been loaded into the tubes and are ready to be fired, sir. Let's kick some Venomian butt!" he grinned quite unexpectedly, but Jakob held no grudge against him for his eagerness to fight. After all, that was what he had been trained to do.

"Excellent, lieutenant-commander! I'll just report this, and we'll be on our way. Hang on," the commander said before switching on his comlink on the Great Fox-frequency, "Great Fox, this is The Valaria reporting for duty. All systems are green and we're ready to go," he spoke calmly into the microphone, followed by Peppy's affirmative response before the final order was given from the elderly hare, the Arwings forming up in arrow formations around the Great Fox and The Valaria..

"All ships in position. Prepare for hyperspace jump in five… four… three… two… one…"

"_Venomians, here we come!"_ was Jakob's last clear thought, before the ship seemed to lurch forward with an incredible speed, into the spiralling tunnel of multicoloured hues, which had just appeared before them, cerulean and lush green intertwining with blood-red and a deep purple. As the commander silently gazed at the meshing colours, he found that they were much like the nature of his own mind at that particular moment, thoughts of various kinds blending into an indistinguishable mass as the two cruisers and thirty-six fighters raced through this temporary tunnel in space.

But then it was over. The interlacing blur of hues vanished, only to make way for the clear and plainly black void, a few stars gleaming here and there like precious diamonds laid on a piece of black velvet. And, obscuring the view to these stars, something much more lethal and khaki-coloured loomed menacingly up ahead to greet the newly arrived Cornerians. A sight which each and every one of the pilots and soldiers involved in the offensive had dreaded to face ever since the announcement of the mission, but nevertheless a sight, which was vital to overcome in all its horror and brute strength:

The Venomian Remnant.

---

Meanwhile, on a planet far away from the position of the inevitable clash between two vengeful Lylatian races, a large figure trudged through the sterile interior of the heavily defended hideout, which had been constructed on the forgotten world amazingly fast in spite of the complex equipment that needed to be installed.

The figure was massive and muscular, standing tall while not being particularly slim, but rather burly with muscles. He was sturdily built, broad across the shoulders, and had a rather lumpish appearance because of his long arms, which seemed to dangle powerlessly along his sides as he walked, his slim and scaly tail swishing slowly back and forth. These arms were also bristling with muscles, giving the impression of a fully trained alien warrior, who had undergone intense training to tune his body into being the finest instrument of death and destruction, which was to be seen in the Lylat System for many a decade. Sometimes, when the weak light in the corridor washed over the figure as he passed under one of the small lamps that were placed in the ceiling, the light played across the multitude of emerald scales that made up the outer armour on this apparently reptilian creature, making them seem all aglow with a vague emerald sheen, as if the alien by himself had a sort of eerie luminescence about his person. However, not every scale could be illuminated due to the orange-tinted armour, which covered the creature's torso, emblazoned and engraved as it was with many mysterious old carvings and ancient black runes, which probably meant something in a lost and legendary – but now utterly forgotten – alien tongue.

The light also played ominously across the deadly weapon, which had come to be at the place where his right hand would normally fit; a lethal appendage adorned with four long blades or prongs, each of them having a jagged and serrated edge to inflict gaping and painful wounds upon an eventual foe, the serrated edges making it hard to stop the bleeding. His left hand was practically a weapon in itself, big and powerful with five long and razor-sharp claws protruding from the tips of his fingers. As the light continued to wash upwards and over the reptilian warrior, it also illuminated the scaly face along with the slightly elongated muzzle and muscular jaw, a row of sharp teeth waiting underneath the tightly clamped lips, if one could indeed speak of lips on such a creature. But what the light needed not illuminate was the eyes of this instrument of death. They were naturally ablaze with a withering orange glow of pure evil. In actuality, it was just the peculiar ocular composition of the iris in the eyes of the alien that made it seem that way, but any of the now deceased foes that had ever stood in his way would swear by their dying breath that the hue, which blazed in those eyes, was the very hue of chaos itself.

The reptilian warrior walked on for some time, before finally going though a door, which opened for the scaly figure with an almost inaudible hiss of compressed air. The room he stepped into was completely devoid of life; that is to say, almost completely. For next to a table, with his back turned on the entrance, stood a thin and slender humanoid figure in a lab coat. But it was obvious to the eye that it was not an actual human, but an alien from somewhere unknown. Despite being humanoid in appearance, the limbs and length of the body as a whole was much too long to be considered normally human. The hands which constantly flittered around on the table with small precise movements, trying to assemble some scientific device made up of many tiny parts, gave off a revealing trademark about the entity that they belonged to: The skin on them was, albeit very vaguely, fluorescent and light purple. The scaly newcomer could not catch a glimpse of the back of this figure's completely bald and egg-shaped head, for it was completely encased in what looked like life-supporting machinery; a black concave dome of power banks and data relays for probes, which extended into the brain and down through the spine and spinal cord of this creature, the power relays giving off an affirmative blink from a signal lamp or beep from a small loudspeaker somewhere on the dome of machinery from time to time, indicating that all vital functions were upheld.

As the alien heard the clanking footsteps of his acquaintance enter the room, his hands stopped the fiddling for the shortest of moments in contemplation of who the guest could be, but then resumed their detailed assembling of the device, whatever it was.

"So, my saurian friend," the alien said with a strangely elegant and somewhat melodious rasping voice containing a tinge of a British accent that could not quite cover up for what seemed like a perpetual and subtle hint of malevolence, "how goes our operation? What news do you have to report, General?"

The lizard did not hesitate before answering the query with his particularly gruff and ragged voice which fitted his person very well, "I've just got word from our informant over a secure and encrypted radio channel. It appears that the Cornerians are about to engage the Venomians in battle."

"Ah yes, the informant, our "help from the outside"," the alien with the lab coat muttered condescendingly, as if he did not think highly of said informant, "What else did you learn, if such a feeble mind can indeed be trusted to yield more potent information than the obvious?"

The reptilian warrior lowered his voice to a slightly more confidential tone, "Well, I also learned that "she" is definitely there, the reason for our joining forces and for planting a mole right under the… dare I say muzzles… of the Cornerians. Our informant has observed her and confirmed her existence among the troops fighting the Venomians."

With the click of several intricate mechanical connections finally coming together, the device, which the alien had been frantically trying to assemble, snapped into completion as the extraterrestrial scientist let out a maniacal cackle of delight, "Oh good, good! Then my time of tedious planning has not been in vain. I always knew it was in her nature to take up arms against any evildoer in Lylat, based on what I've managed to learn about her. Among the reasons for why I want her here, she's truly a paragon of unsurpassed virtue and skill, so it is only natural that this confrontation would come. I've waited so long for this, a chance to finally lure her to me and seize her for my own!"

He sighed complacently before he spoke up again, this time in a slightly more agitated and heated tone of voice, the vision of claiming the individual he so desired still fresh in his mind's eye, "Now, here's the plan, General: Let us give the Cornerians a limit of twenty minutes to do us a favour, unbeknownst to them, and eliminate our pesky competitors, the Venomians, before we… arouse their appetite, so to speak. Don't send our ship out until that time. When it has reached its destination, let it fire a couple of rounds at the Cornerians and then retreat hastily to this planet. With any luck, the Cornerians, being as stupidly curious as they are, will follow the ship to this planet and walk right into our trap. Are we clear, Scales?" the alien said enquiringly.

The lizard, now positively identified as General Scales, Andross' reptilian puppet during the Sauria-incident, clamped his jaws shut with a slamming sound in disagreement and shook his head with a snarl that reverberated deep within his throat; a sign that his feral nature had still not left him, despite all the time that had passed between Sauria and now, "No, we're not clear. If I know the Cornerians rightly, not to mention that little brat Fox McCloud, they won't hesitate to start a war if we lure them to this planet, and they see that there's something dangerous down here. What do we do then? And how do we get the person in question to come down?"

To this, the alien scientist simply laughed a complacent laugh, as if his companion in evil was truly a dim-witted oaf, "Please, my dear General, don't forget that I've genetically and technologically enhanced your Sharpclaw-warriors… or what's left of them from their unfortunate wipe-out on Sauria. With the new fortifications and arms they're utilizing and carrying, along with the members of my own race that are also present as infantry and guards, the Cornerian Army will find itself in a lot of heat, I daresay, if they decide to send ground forces down here, as well as engage our fleet in space, which is guarding this planet. As for our subject, I want her brought here by force if necessary, but still unspoiled and unharmed. Perhaps… our dubious informant can assist us in this endeavour after we've lured the Cornerians here with our ship?"

As the reptilian general heard this, he nodded contemplatively, "All right, that answers some questions, but still raises a new one. Our informant mentioned that someone or something called "G-Wing" was present as well. I don't know what that is. Do you?" Scales asked his companion incredulously, never having heard of the team before.

For an instant as he heard the name, the alien scientist felt a pang of mind-inflicted pain at the back of his head as a gruesome flashback from not so long ago, involving a member of G-Wing, dawned upon him. But then, his normally cool and calculating mind took over. With an audible electronic buzz of machinery, originating from the life-support system at the back of his head as he turned it, the extraterrestrial entity turned around and fixed his stone-cold aquamarine eyes upon the general. But although they were aquamarine, which was normally a beautiful colour, these eyes were tainted by an inexplicable and sinister shadow which also dominated his oblong face, as if the creature were perpetually shrouded in his omnipresent malignancy. When he spoke, his voice – now being more of a grumble – was reverberating with unspoken hatred.

"Yes, I know who they are, although I've only had the luck to meet one of them until now. But that meeting was more than enough. They're of a pitiful and arrogant alien species from a solar system far away. And it seems that they spend an awful lot of time in the company of our desired subject. If they come here, I don't care what end they meet or how they meet it. Torture them as much as you want or kill them right away. That's your choice, Scales. Unless they hinder our plans by trying to defend or liberate our chosen subject, I have no business with them, except that they must die, particularly the one I met not so long ago… Oh, what pain he caused me! But if they do interfere by accompanying our subject here to this very base, I'll take action myself!" the alien murmured, but soon after snapped out of the web of gloomy thoughts in which his mind had been caught.

"Anyway, before we launch our operation completely, General, I just want to make sure that you know which person we're primarily after, and who this mission is all about obtaining, despite the obnoxious and distracting presence of Cornerians and G-Wing. Are we clear about this, Scales?" the alien scientist asked.

For the first time since the Sauria-incident, General Scales bared his teeth in a vicious and content grin, the vision of a perfectly simple mission fresh in his mind, "Of course we're clear about that. Hell, why shouldn't I be? I think the only fitting answer to that question must be…" The lizard paused and then concluded his sentence with an answer that phonetically sounded like a confirmation of being clear about the matter, unless one could look at the way it was spelled.

"… Krystal!"


	7. Chp 5: When Peace Has Died

**Chapter 5: When Peace Has Died**

_(Unfortunately, no logs were recorded during the offensive against The Venomian Remnant)_

Problems.

As the two sides closed in on each other, white Lylatian ships against khaki-coloured Venomian ones, this was what the Lylatians felt was in store for them. Problems, and large ones at that.

The Venomians had taken the liberty of fortifying themselves as much as possible up to this encounter, and they had done a good job of it. About one hundred of the dreaded Invader-class fighters, if not more, formed an effective barrier and defensive perimeter at the front of the fleet along with three Venomian frigates. What they were blocking loomed large behind: Two sleek cruisers of the Zeram-class, and – to top it off – one humongous troop transport.

The megalomaniacal aliens had chosen a wise pattern to fight in. Almost as if they were hornets by their hive, the fighters swarmed cautiously in two groups, approximately mustering around fifty fighters in each group which flew between two frigates. The Invaders were medium-sized craft and the preferred strike fighter of the Venomian air force. Their bulky and somewhat scarab-like shape with two rapid-firing laser cannons mounted at the front, protruding as deadly dark brown prongs or spears from the khaki-coloured shape of the main body, further contributed to the association of insects that one got when looking at them. But as much as each fighter resembled a scarab in shape individually, a squadron or large group of fighters, as was the case here, almost seemed to mimic a swarm of locusts as they slowly flew around and between each other, constantly on their guard and waiting cautiously for the right moment to strike, thus creating a dynamic wall along with the frigates in front of the larger and more important capital ships.

And as lethal as the Invader-class fighters were in a gathered group, just as lethal were the slim frigates, also khaki in colour, which also made up the defensive perimeter. In essence, they almost resembled shrunken capital ships, with a miniature bridge on the far back of their long and slender form. The main body of the frigate stretched out from the bridge in a completely flat manner with no fancy curves or wings. But this flatness was there for a reason, for the deadly ships were bristling with automated turret defences on their flat top, making it almost impossible for the enemy fighters to gain a momentum to attack them properly from any side. At the very front of the vessel, the armour plating curved slightly downwards to the bottom of the ship, forming a type of pointy ram at the front, ideal for smashing into enemy capital ships or sturdier targets such as space stations.

If the frigates were shrunken cruisers, the full-fledged capital ships were then their larger brethren. The immensely powerful Zeram-class cruisers dated back to the days of the Lylat Wars almost a decade ago. Back then, they were a most useful tool for the countless offensives, which Andross delivered all over Lylat in what he had planned to be a devastating blitzkrieg, had it not been for the interference of the Star Fox Team. The Zeram excelled in being useful on all fronts, delivering heavy and sturdy flak armour and impressive manoeuvrability for a cruiser, while simultaneously boasting massive firepower from the multitude of turret defences, which adorned its long topside, as well as from some heavier flak-cannons and homing missile launchers situated under the short and stubby wings, which protruded from the rear end of the long and slim, khaki-coloured ship. However, as time passed after the Lylat Wars and the scientific evolution came to Lylat, Andrew Oikonny – the unscrupulous heir to Andross and his empire; the enemy of Lylat who was slain during the Aparoid Invasion seven months ago – had tried to develop his father's design for the Zeram further, utilizing the new leaps and bounds in Lylatian quantum mechanics. It worked… to a certain degree.

Andrew's plan was to build a shield generator into the original design of the Zeram, giving it extra protection. And he did indeed succeed, if one haphazardly overlooked the fact that part of the generator was sticking out through the hull of the cruiser because of Andrew's somewhat incomplete design, glowing a bright cerulean with all the complex energy processes taking place within it, and also offering a clear point of vulnerability to the enemies of the Venomians if they could penetrate the shield. Despite this obviously idiotic flaw in design, the Zeram-cruiser was still a force to be reckoned with, holding the formidable firepower that it did indeed possess along with having its protection augmented noticeably because of the newly installed shield.

And finally, as a symbol of the crushing military force that the Venomians still possessed even after having been defeated so many times, the troop transport kept itself slightly in the back of the scenery, not wanting to expose itself too much, since this could possibly lead to severe Venomian casualties if the enemy managed to get a lucky shot. Essentially, since it was just a troop transport, there was no need to make this ship fancily decorated, long, sleek and in other ways suited for war, as it was the case with the cruisers. Basically, they just needed to be heavily armoured boxes with the capacity to transport a substantial amount of people and material to wherever the battle was raging. And as such, the troop transport filled out its role admirably.

Consisting of nothing more than a large main body, completely square in shape as if it were a grotesquely oversized box, the transport certainly boasted the volume to fit quite a large number of reinforcements within its almost completely hollow interior. This mobile fortress was driven by two gigantic ion-flux engines situated at the backside of the craft. They glowed a bright and sinister red, as if to remind any curious onlookers within the enemy cruisers that the Venomians were driven by rage and hate, and would stop at nothing to accomplish their fiendish crusade against any race which dared oppose them. The transport could unleash its armoured waves of destruction through two open hangars, which were attached to either side of it, pointing straight forward, as if to indicate that the fearless pilots within would strike at their enemies at any time, posing a constant threat.

In the last seconds before the unleashing of the impending inferno that surely was to come, the two fronts hovered expectantly in front of one another, each of them daring the enemy to make the first move. The Cornerian Arwings kept up their disciplined arrow formations, steeling themselves and calming their minds, while the more aggressive-looking Venomian Invaders swarmed and whirled around more eagerly. In these last seconds, contrary to the hellish noise that would break out in an instant, a strange silence of expectation, awareness and of an unbroken equilibrium persisted in the pitch-black void, when one excluded the vague mechanical hiss of G-Diffusers and the hum of ion-flux engines on low throttle. It was as if this silence offered a faint glimmer of peace to those optimistic enough to believe it, but the seasoned veterans on both sides knew by heart that this was not the silence of possible peace. Andross had broken that silence years ago, when he in his uncontrollable madness viciously intended to conquer the Lylat System for himself and had thus initiated his crippling blitz, launching a particularly hard offensive at Corneria, shattering the hopes of peace between these two races for eternity.

Yes, the veterans thought as they saw the first crimson laser bolt fly from a Venomian Invader and brutally smash into the shimmering energy shields of a Cornerian Arwing, the hopes had indeed been shattered. And as the flurry of green and red laser- or plasma-beams started to slowly flourish between the vengeful fronts, triggered by that rage-driven shot of a rash Venomian pilot as if it were the starting signal in a bizarre sports contest, the officials and veterans were confirmed in their suspicion of what they thought the now utterly ruined silence before to be. It was not the silence of vague peace, they thought ruefully.

It was merely the calm before the storm.

---

"Alright, guys! This is it. Form up behind me, keep your weapons hot and let's do this! Yee-haw, it's cool!" John shouted ecstatically over the din of laser blasts as he fearlessly boosted right into the centre of the fray of vibrant hues with his afterburners on full capacity, his squadron following close behind, blasting the first Venomian Invaders that were foolish enough to stick their heads out into the battle this early.

John's obviously straightforward and simple trajectory at least had the glimmer of a purpose. He was hoping to rush the frigate and the fighters that made up the middle of the outer defence perimeter in the Venomian fleet. However, such rashness also held a certain risk, and Saber's squad was about to learn it the hard way. Almost as if the frigate were an organism acting on instinct, it responded to the approaching threat accordingly, its frontal automated turret defences swinging around to unleash a hail of crimson laser fire upon the enemy vessels, which practically hurled themselves at it. Unfortunately, Saber – reckless as he was – had positioned himself in the lead of the formation, and thus in a position to receive the largest amount of laser beams. And he certainly felt them as they slammed against his shields, which shimmered with energy projection, the impacts sending his Arwing swaying uncontrollably back and forth.

"Hey! Cut it out, you goddamned freak!" John shouted irritably, well aware that whoever operated the frigate could not hear him, but nevertheless in need of venting his frustration. Almost as if it were a reply to his irate remark, the turrets on the right side of the frigate swung around and let loose another salvo of laser bolts upon John and his squadron.

"Shit!" Saber growled furiously as his Arwing dodged and weaved through the complex pattern of crimson bars of energy, only registering a blur of Invaders and Arwings outside his cockpit window. He continued to speak in his furious and angered tone as the frigate ceased fire for the shortest of moments, which still was enough for John to speed away in a blaze of purple afterglow, "I'm warning you, frigate scumbags… If you do that one more time, just one more, I'll rip those turrets off your ship!"

As he regained his orientation, Saber looked around. His squad was fighting fiercely and valiantly all around him, lashing out at the hostile entities with vibrant, green laser beams like white lightning against a blackened sky, obliterating the Venomians that flung themselves at the Cornerians on a straight approach vector from the swirling maelstrom of fighters all around the Arwings, evidently oblivious to the thought of dying in the process. But something else also caught John's eye as he let his gaze sweep across the interstellar inferno.

At the right side of the Venomian outer defence perimeter, a drastic change had occurred. Small clouds of blackened debris, the remains of several Invaders, were drifting idly around what had once been a deadly adversary to the Cornerian fighters. One of the frigates, which had stood ever so vigilant at the front of the fleet, ready to rain death and ruin upon any approaching Cornerians, was now reduced to nothing more than a chunk of scorched, twisted and burning debris, spiralling slowly around its own axis in the endless weightlessness of the void, flames and bolts of malfunctioning power belching out from the devastated wreckage.

Somehow, Krystal and her squad had managed to break through the outer perimeter of fighters and frigates, and were now headed on the direct course to one of the Zeram-cruisers. The mighty behemoth of a ship, painted a dull khaki with its slender construction covered in high-efficiency flak-armour, aligned its slim, rapid-firing frontal turrets on the approaching group of Arwings and was about to let a salvo fly, had it not been for the Arwing on Krystal's right side, which – in a moment of true valour – suddenly banked to the left in a narrow sickle-shaped curve, making a fly-by attack on the frontal turret defences of the cruiser, laser cannons ablaze. When the purple fluorescent haze of the ionized exhaust from the G-Diffusers had vanished, everything that was left on the front of the Zeram was five twisted and smoking turrets.

"_Hmm… Wonder who that was? Maybe that new Cain-guy, who wanted to go with Krystal. Well, the dude's got skills!"_ Saber thought contently to himself, but that content dissipated like it had never been there at all when his senses were placed on full alert. From the troop transport at the back of the fleet, ten small dots zoomed out of one of the open hangars on the side. As they grew larger in size, both visually as well as on John's radar, he could make out that they were another squad of Venomian Invaders, gliding around the other side of the Zeram-cruiser in an extremely wide arc, surely to ambush the Arwings and take them by surprise.

As he watched this unfold from a distance, Saber gritted his teeth and clenched his hands tightly around the control column with anger and tension. Krystal and her squadron were about to be obliterated in front of his very eyes, since they had obviously not noticed the enemy fighters approaching their position. As much as he was the lone wolf when he was on a mission, John still felt an undeniable moral impulse throbbing deep within him. He had a responsibility to the Star Fox Team as well as to Mikki and Jakob. And Krystal was far too nice a person to just get shot down like that, considering all the things she had done for him, and all the unsurpassable kindness she had shown him during his stay in Lylat. All of this meant that the lieutenant made up his mind about his next move as soon as the sight had been registered on his retina.

"Yo, squad-guys! Do me a favour and cover my back. Don't let any of those Venomian bastards slip through! I'm going to help Krystal's wing! See you in a minute," Saber transmitted to his squadron-members before he activated his afterburners on full capacity yet again and sped off through the void, heading straight for Krystal's squadron. On more than one occasion, he had to barrel-roll frantically out of the way as he found himself on a direct crash course with a group of three Venomian fighters coming straight at him; or he let some viridian laser of his own fly in response to the small Venomian hit squads, which every now and then flung themselves at his sole ship, their laser cannons blazing aggressively.

But whereas John's Cornerian lasers ripped through both the shields and hulls of the Venomians as if their ships were – as Saber had said to Fox earlier on – made of cardboard, and thus a truly laughable enemy, which G-Wing also regarded them as, the crimson beams which emanated from the allegedly dreaded Venomian contraptions of death did not seem to make a single dent in the hulls of the Arwings. Maybe because they had a very hard time even penetrating the new complex energy shields. With the new modifications, which had been applied to the Arwings recently, the shields were sturdier and more stable than ever before, granting the Arwings an enormous edge in this conflict against an enemy, which – seen largely – had not even evolved over the decade, in which it had lain dormant. Andross, the main source of scientific expertise and inspiration among the Venomians, was gone, killed by Fox's hand so long ago, and as such, the Venomians had found it hard to recover from the crippling blow, which Fox had dealt to their weapon- and ship-technology.

As he found himself within range of the approaching Venomians, John did not think twice about pressing a button on his control column, which he knew should not be pressed unless it was absolutely necessary. However, given the impending doom that was soon to creep up on his friends from around the side of the cruiser, he found it to be just one of those times when this particular button was necessary. As it was pressed, his Arwing unleashed a weapon, which had been dreaded by the Venomians ever since it saw the light of day during the Lylat Wars.

The little, red glowing spheroid known as a Nova Bomb, bristling with neutron-developing fission processes deep within its core, the neutrons acting as the destructive shrapnel in this grenade of physics, flew a distance away from his ship and slammed forcefully against one of the Invaders, which made up the middle of the formation. Given the extremely unstable and volatile nature of the bomb once it was fired from its storing tube, it instantly detonated on impact. When the blinding blue-white flash died down, the five Venomians at the back of the formation had been obliterated completely. No debris at all was left, at least not in so large bits that it could be seen with the naked eye. Unfortunately, the other half of the formation had dodged nimbly to avoid the searing energy blast of the Nova Bomb, and because of this, five hostile pilots emerged from the inferno of debris and energy unscathed, plotting a straight trajectory around the side of the Zeram-cruiser to continue their tenacious ambush.

As Saber realized this, his eyes widened in considerable horror before he regained his composure enough to send a transmission to Krystal on the other side of the ship, "Krys! Incoming Venomian scumbags at three o'clock! I'm moving to intercept. Be prepared!" he screamed, activated his afterburners and blasted towards the Venomians in a frantic haze of speed. As he caught up with the rear of the attack group, John let his viridian lasers fly remorselessly, effectively obliterating two of the attacking Venomians. And because of Saber's timely warning to Krystal and her squadron, the three survivors that rounded the corner of the cruiser to take the Cornerians by surprise found themselves greeted by a sundering hail of laser fire from Krystal, Cain and the others, which caused their ships to be torn apart into new interstellar vapour trails, quite contrary to their original intentions.

John rounded the corner just at the moment when the Cornerians ceased fire. Through the cockpit windows of the six Arwings, which were gathered there, he saw the pilots cheering and emitting shouts of jubilation, which he could hear crackling through his comlink, and as if to show that he accepted their praise, he made a little barrel roll on the spot, smiling widely as he did so. Krystal was by far the most content, waving uncontrollably and smiling happily at the lieutenant, as Saber also glimpsed through his cockpit; she was well aware that the dauntless human had saved her and her squadron from a showdown with an overwhelming enemy opposition.

"Thank you so much, Saber! I shan't forget this. How many were there exactly, just out of curiosity?" the cerulean vixen asked him as she formed up her squad to continue down the side of the Zeram.

"Well, there were ten in total, and you saw the last three, so I guess it shouldn't be too hard for you to figure out just how many I took out single-handedly with my psycho-skills! I bet Falco will have a hard time trying to catch up with that!" Saber grinned complacently as he turned his Arwing around to return to the front, where his squad was located, still fighting intensively. And as he swung his ship around, Krystal's voice sounded in his comlink. All traces of the happy contentment, which had been there before, had vanished to make way for an agitated and worried utterance.

"Saber, incoming! Frigate on your six, coming across your trajectory!" the young vixen shouted nervously, eyeing the enemy vessel as it laid itself directly in the lieutenant's flight path, turrets trained on the lone Arwing as it swung around to boost its way back to the front. She had seen it happen on her radar just before she and her squadron continued on their route, and out of natural reactions and instinct, she felt that she needed to warn John about this impending calamity.

Saber's wondering mumbling about what he had just heard changed abruptly to an exclamation of horror as he saw the large ship, which he was practically about to collide with as he had swung all the way around, "What the… Oh shit!" he shouted with angst reverberating in his voice, as he pulled his Arwing up in a steep climb to avoid slamming into the side of the frigate. This unfortunate position, however, placed him as a sitting duck in relation to all the turrets aboard the ship, which got the opportunity to fire away blindly. As his ship was riddled by the crimson laser beams, John felt the anger flaring up inside him like a group of smouldering embers, which had suddenly blossomed into a fierce wildfire. The Venomian bastards had done this one time too many.

"Psycho-crap!" Saber cursed irritably as he banked around the frigate in a screeching arc in the hope of outmanoeuvring the turrets with this sudden boost of speed and unpredictable manoeuvring, his shields shimmering as they absorbed the deadly energy which rained from the frigate. And luckily, it helped. The fire gradually dissipated, and eventually ceased completely. The lieutenant checked his shield monitor, and smiled inwardly with glee as he saw that it had not been as severe a pounding as he had thought it to be. The shields were steadily recharging after being knocked down to fifty percent of their original capacity.

"All right, now they've gone and done it! That goddamned frigate is going down, and I'm going to raze all those frigging turrets on it! Who's with me?" John shouted energetically, fuelled by his anger. But to his astonishment, he did not receive a single answer to his query. That in itself was not necessarily to be thought of as an intriguing conundrum; this was simply because every other Arwing was engaged in other activities somewhere else on the battlefield, which mostly involved keeping the swarm of Venomian Invaders at bay. This was a job, which proved to grow more and more strenuous by the minute, since the troop transport at the back of the fleet had apparently realized that the Cornerians were getting the upper hand fast in this battle, thus trying to suppress the seemingly victorious side by quelling their gleaming Arwings in wave after wave of Invaders, which were constantly flying out from its two hangars. When the lieutenant had waited for a moment and no affirmative reply had crackled in on the comlink, he decided that he might as well take action himself and take a chance.

"No-one? Oh, well. As I say to myself, heroism has always been considered a one-man job!" Saber grinned and set his cap with the Kamikaze-sign right on his head, before activating the afterburners of his Arwing on full throttle and plummeting downwards in a fast, whirling spin, the ionized purple exhaust dancing around him like a freakish light show, until his Arwing smashed straight into the cascade of laser fire, which rushed up to greet him from the frigate below.

His shields unyielding to the crimson barrage of death, John laughed vengefully as he pressed the triggers of his own vessel, letting the viridian laser lash out at the various weapon installations aboard the frigate, effectively demolishing them one by one in brilliant flashes as he cruised along the topside of the ship. When he finally banked upwards to avoid the otherwise impending collision with the bridge at the end of the flat topside of the frigate, Saber looked back at his own handiwork. What had previously been a proud bastion for the Venomian fleet, ready to mercilessly strike down any advancing enemy, was now a smoking wreck, not capable of defending itself at all. Its once so dreaded turret defences were now laid completely in ruin, reduced to nothing more than smoking and burning piles of metal and debris.

"Yeah! Take that, bitch!" John smirked ominously at the sight of the devastation he had caused. As Saber swung around and was about to fly in for the kill, Falco's voice suddenly echoed out from the comlink.

"Holy hell! Saber, was that you? The guy who went berserk on that frigate just before?" Although he tried to sound casual, there was nothing that could quite veil the slightly vibrating tone of utter awe and incredulity, which was also present in his remark. The avian was rather taken aback by this act, because it had shown an amount of recklessness, bravery and blatant disregard to the tradition of sticking with your formation, which – from Falco's point of view – only one other person in Lylat could demonstrate: Himself.

"Yep, that was me, alright!" John said complacently, donning a big smirk on his face inside his cockpit, since he had no trouble picturing Falco's expression of mingled astonishment and hurt pride in his mind's eye, "Say… the turrets count as legal kills too, don't they?" he asked casually, and upon hearing the unenthusiastic grumble which Falco gave as a reluctant affirmative response, Saber smiled even wider. If Falco answered him like that, it probably meant that he had pissed him off quite much, and was also noticeably in the lead of their competition.

And in order to knock the avian face down in the mud, the lieutenant displayed that final act of exhibitionism by saying calmly, "Well, here's another one for you!", turning his Arwing around and firing a Nova Bomb straight into the engine of the disabled frigate, which was hurled forcefully out into the void by the impact, flames spouting from the rear end of its body, as if it were a broken toy with which the cosmic powers had decided not to play.

---

Further out, on the left flank where the concentration of Invaders was not so dense, Mikki led his squad around in a wide arc to get the best angle possible for him to attack the frigate on the left flank along with its fighter escort.

"Okay, guys, split up. The three of you will keep the fighters distracted, and the rest of us will make a run on that frigate. Understood?" the sergeant asked. After the various affirmative replies from his squadron had sounded through his comlink, the straight line of six Arwings flying wing by wing seemed to break directly on the middle, creating two small groups of three metallic and mechanical birds of prey in each, their whitish hulls glimmering faintly with the glow from the laser bolts, which whistled past them from the escorting fighters as well as from the automated turret defences on the frigate.

At what seemed the last possible moment, one of these groups of three fired a couple of laser bolts on the five escort fighters, then banked off sharply to the left. Not wanting to let such an assault on their pride and dignity go unpunished, the Venomians decided to give chase and sped away in pursuit of the – to them – impudent Cornerians, leaving the frigate open to attack from Shield and his wingmen. And the second group of three fighters used that given chance to its fullest.

Ignoring the vicious hail of shot and shell, which the frigate unleashed upon them, Mikki and his squad ploughed through the rain of lasers undaunted. The new shields really did wonders for the protection of their ships, now that they were actually able to merely shrug off the otherwise fatal damage from the laser beams, thanks to the new energy adjustments. Surely their shields were drained a bit, but whenever they got a moment free of enemy fire, the shields began to recharge back to their original one hundred percent condition, just as any other normal energy shield did; only here, the rate of regeneration was increased due to better understanding of how the circuits within the shield generator should be primed to do so.

"Alright, guys. Just do exactly what we talked about before we jumped out into hyperspace!" Shield mumbled determinedly, squinting his eyes against the multicoloured spectacle outside his cockpit window, crimson laser fire and fluorescent purple Arwing exhaust meshing together to create an irritatingly obscuring blur. The fingers of the three pilots on approach hovered expectantly over their Nova Bomb release triggers, but the sergeant's steady mumbling over the comlink kept them all from doing anything rash or unplanned.

"Wait for it… hold your ships steady… wait for it…" Mikki mumbled as the hail of laser fire sent their Arwings rocking back and forth with the literal avalanche of lasers, which rained down upon them. Their shields were at fifty percent at the first glance, and at the next glance shortly thereafter they were at forty. The sergeant knew that it was now or never; he and his squadron could not take this kind of punishment any longer. But finally, he glimpsed the hull of the frigate rushing up at them through the intertwining hues of laser and exhaust. Now was the time.

"Target acquired, everyone. Now!" Shield shouted stoutly, emphasizing that monosyllabic word with such power that neither of his pilots was in doubt about when to do what they had to. It was a matter of bravery and very precise timing to take out a frigate in this way, but bravery and stoic adaptation to pain or damage were traits that were lodged deep within Mikki's conscience, and as such, he did not find this interstellar intermezzo the least bit difficult. And under his charismatic leadership, neither did the pilots who accompanied him.

The occupants of the three ships pressed their bomb-release buttons in unison before they broke away from the straight trajectory, after which they had steered earlier. In their place were three pulsating Nova Bombs, which smashed into the side of the frigate forcefully, their white-blue emissions of lethal energy tearing violent gashes in the side of the vessel, completely crumbling and obliterating the flak armour as if it were nothing more than paper. And with the holes in the ship came also the vacuum from the cold recesses of space, this lethal and incorporeal ghost of the void offering a quick but terrifying death by asphyxiation to the Venomians, who were unfortunate enough to be alive at this point. And in the course of only a few moments, the frigate had changed from being a vicious Venomian instrument of death to being yet another silent interstellar sarcophagus; a tomb littered with the corpses of several megalomaniacal invaders, forever spiralling weightlessly in eternal stasis and silence.

As he saw this outstanding result of their heroic plunge straight into the heart of the enemy, Shield could not help but voice his satisfaction with the action over the comlink to his pilots, "Wow! Did you all see that flash? Man, did we just kick their butts there! Great teamwork, guys! Now, form up. With all the frigate defences down, we're going even further in to rip the heart out of those damned Zerams!" the sergeant shouted heatedly, waiting for his squad to form up in a complete formation behind him.

When everyone had returned – even those who had distracted and summarily obliterated the escort fighters – the Arwings quickly formed an arrow formation and dauntlessly boosted onwards, right into the defensive perimeter of Invaders, which had hastily assembled in front of one of the Zerams. As Mikki quickly glanced at the other cruiser, he saw Krystal and her squad as they valiantly blazed back and forth around it like a swarm of persistent metallic hornets, riddling the mighty ship with viridian lasers.

"_Great work, Krys! Those bastards will go down in a minute if you keep that up. You just wait and see!" _Shield thought admiringly before quickly barrel-rolling out of the way to avoid crashing into a particularly eager Venomian pilot, who zoomed right at him in his Invader, presumably to attempt a suicide run. Not wanting to make such an attack on his person go unpunished, the sergeant turned his Arwing around sharply after he had decided with himself to give chase.

But it was not the void sparkling with stars that greeted him as he turned around and tried to keep his gaze fixed on the culprit amidst the fierce war. Instead, it was only the khaki-coloured carpet of more Venomian Invaders that appeared in his line of sight, as if they had suddenly materialized from thin air. Glancing wildly in all directions, having lost his previous target immediately due to these new circumstances, Shield could conclude with horror that the sight was the same everywhere. The Venomians had somehow managed to sneak up on him and his squadron, boxing them in and effectively preventing them from reaching their designated target, the Zeram-cruiser.

As if he could read Mikki's exact thoughts at that moment, one of the pilots in his squad boosted past him frantically with four persistent hostiles hot on his tail, "Whoa! Where the hell did all these things come from, sir?" the young racoon inside the cockpit screamed amazedly to his superior as he tried to shake the obnoxious enemies off. But despite even his best efforts and evasive manoeuvres, the Venomians just kept sitting there, hurtling crimson laser at his vessel relentlessly.

"I don't know, and I don't care, private!" the sergeant answered airily as he gave chase and unleashed his own vengeful hail of viridian energy bolts at the hostile pursuers, reducing them to dust and scorched debris, "But what I do care about is that we need some reinforcements to haul ass to our location fast, or else we won't last much longer!"

Despite his otherwise optimistic look on things when it came to combat and war, Shield did not think twice about facing the harsh realities of this particular situation, simply because it seemed to him that all hope had vanished, that there was nothing left for them to feel enthusiastic about. He and his squadron were encircled by up to forty Venomian fighters, swirling aggressively around them like angered insects, crimson laser spurting from the deadly appendages on the front. Even with the new Arwing-modifications, such a large opposition would be enough to wear them down to the point of killing them ultimately. If the Cornerians and one human were going to survive in this hellish inferno, they would surely be needing backup. And that was what Mikki called for an instant later.

"Fox, Falco, anyone! We've got all hell breaking loose here! We're completely surrounded by those Venomian scumbags; they just came out of nowhere. You have our position on the radar. We need help, and fast!" he shouted, weaving through a sudden barrage of laser fire coming straight at him from a group of five fighters in front of him. As he had avoided most of the laser, his shields absorbing some would-be damaging hits, the sergeant retaliated swiftly by riddling the approaching group with his own lasers, tearing them apart violently.

This made him grin widely with glee, a feeling of growing superiority in this conflict beginning to blossom within him. However, this feeling dissipated as fast as it came, when a new group of five fighters separated itself from the swirling wall of Invaders around the six Arwings, seemingly not minding this depletion of their numbers, which – from the struggling Cornerians' point of view – were practically infinite. For as soon as an Invader-squadron was taken out, another separated itself from the main cluster of fighters to take the place of their fallen comrades. With its practically wriggling and flat-looking nature, the main crowd of fighters somehow resembled an armoured, khaki-coloured, impermeable membrane, offering no opportunity whatsoever of a gap or other means to let its captured prey escape from confinement within its lethal interior.

Crimson laser raining down upon and singeing his craft, Shield zoomed from side to side, in and out of different flying methods, in the hope of distracting the vengeful Venomians. As he instinctively dodged and swerved the best he had learned, the sergeant focused his mind on the radar, trying to find an explanation to his inward query about where this sudden surge of hostiles had originated from. And the answer glowed a noticeable red in his eyes as his gaze settled upon the radar screen. Against the backdrop of the neutral green, Mikki could make out the reddish clunky form of the troop transport as it was designated on his radar. And from this large square, dozens of small red dots, each of them representing a single fighter, spurted out with no end in sight, greatly fortifying the Venomian numbers.

And in an instant of lucid thinking, it all snapped into place in Shield's mind. The Venomians had felt incredibly threatened by the steady advance of the Cornerians as they had broken down their frigate defences, and had then chosen to retaliate in a most effective fashion, using the spare ace that they still had up their sleeve: The troop transport. They had simply released large amounts of troops to set up defensive perimeters around their significant capital ships, while simultaneously assigning other squads to encircle the various Cornerian groups fighting on the battlefield, separating them from each other and wearing them down slowly, but steadily.

Suddenly, the sergeant's train of thought was derailed and he was abruptly brought back to reality from his state of deep contemplation by a violent booming noise that sounded to his right. Swinging his Arwing around in a narrow arc, Mikki saw that a Nova Bomb had evidently punched a hole in the wall of fighters, a cloud of debris expanding from the main crowd of Invaders, creating a clear passage through the swirling mass of vessels. As the remains of Nova Bomb-energy had dissipated, the Venomians were apparently too shocked and taken by surprise to do anything about it. And what emerged through the hole was like a blessing in the sergeant's eyes, considering the heated fray in which he and his squad were situated. Six white, sharply contoured Arwings boosted through the wound they had ripped in the defences of the Venomians, letting loose salvo after salvo of suppressive viridian laser fire. To top it off, the leader of the squadron was a person, whom Shield had inwardly wished would come to his aid.

"Hey Fox! So, you guys decided to show up after all! For a moment there, I was afraid that my squad and I would have to steal all the action and fight us out of this ourselves!" Mikki grinned mischievously in response to Fox's equally joking grin, which he glimpsed shortly through his cockpit window as Fox's Arwing flittered by.

"What the hell are you talking about, Shield? When we see such a large concentration of scumbags, we'd like our share of the cake as well!" Fox shouted briskly, clearly playing down the immense danger that his friends were in. Nevertheless, he steeled himself and focused on the situation now as he glimpsed a torrent of laser fire being unleashed at his ship from the right, reminding him that this was a fight to the death after all, and not just some unimportant skirmish. He deftly barrel-rolled out of the way before transmitting his chosen course of action to both squads, "But this isn't the time to talk about trivialities. We can always do that later. Squad, form up in attack formation and take these suckers out!"

In reply to the spirited statement of the golden-furred vulpine, an energetic shout echoed through Fox's comlink from Mikki, "Hell yeah, you said it, Fox! Alright, guys, you heard the man: Form up in attack formation and let's open the can of whoop-ass we brought with us, just for these guys!" the sergeant grinned contently, lining his formation up on Fox's side.

And as they boosted around in unison to the Invader-filled edges of the fray in which they were contained, the only thing that preceded the twelve glimmering white Arwings and their ionized purple exhaust was the massive viridian hail of laser fire, which obliterated every single border-forming Invader that was unfortunate enough to be in their line of sight. Which, in conclusion, was all of them.

---

Just like the Venomians possessed two powerful cruisers that kept themselves back from the fray a bit, so did the Cornerians. The Great Fox and The Valaria hovered expectantly at the edge of the combat. And it seemed like this discretion had paid off, for they had remained almost unnoticed by the enemy Invaders, frigates or capital ships. Maybe it was also because of the valiant work that the Cornerian pilots performed, holding the hostiles at bay and pressing the charge, gaining a more and more advantageous position by the minute as they forced the enemy to fall back into their own territory.

And even now, when the Venomians realized their impending defeat and countered it by spewing out the multitude of fighter craft, the Cornerian cruisers remained unscathed by the enemy. Some small Invader-squadrons broke out from the main crowd every once in a while to head for the Cornerian cruisers, but they were always hunted down and summarily destroyed by a number of Arwings.

Watching this sudden turn of the tides were two faces, an old and a young one, situated on the Great Fox and The Valaria respectively. From the bridge on James McCloud's old – and now reconstructed – flagship, the elderly grey-furred visage of Peppy Hare stared fixedly out into the pandemonium, which unfolded itself just outside the window. He had kept the weapon systems of the Great Fox cool during this combat, because they were not nearly as advanced and precise as the ones aboard The Valaria, and also because he would give Ghost a chance to try out the new position as commander of an entire ship. But of course, as he kept telling himself, if his help was required by his friends, he would move in and assist to the limit of his abilities.

"_Come on, Fox, you can do this! Your father gave his life to stop this maniacal race, and you're his heir. Who else but you should carry on the valiant legacy of exterminating the Venomians once and for all?"_ Peppy thought encouragingly as he watched the newly formed team of twelve Arwings with Fox and Mikki in the lead blast their way through the wall of foes, which had surrounded them not so long ago. And when they demolished the last one and emerged through the dense cloud of blackened and twisted debris seemingly unscathed, the old hare could not help smiling wryly. In his heart, he had never doubted that the true valour and courage, which James had possessed, should not be transferred to his son as well. And this day proved it. While fighting his father's arch-enemy, Fox had never let his guard down, always flying around attentively, ready to react to even the least sign of trouble.

Furthermore, Peppy was slightly amazed by how well the Arwings were faring, despite the overwhelming number of hostiles. Against such an immense opposition, any ordinary fighter contingent would have been obliterated instantly. But apparently, the recent changes in shield- and laser configurations had left the Arwings more than well equipped to take on this awesome foe. The old hare silently prayed that this luck would last.

Aboard The Valaria, the line of thought within Jakob's head was slightly more brooding. For what seemed like an eternity, he had turned his back on his crew and kept staring out the window, out on the uncontrollable chaos, which evolved and grew larger by the minute. The commander had had his eye on the troop transport ever since it started spewing out fighters, and in his head, Ghost was reflecting about the course of the battle and what to do about it.

"_So, despite a decade of stasis, the seemingly inherent bloodlust in the Venomians hasn't been quelled, not by a long shot. The paraphernalia of war is still claiming more valiant lives by the day; the wheels of hate and megalomania are still turning unabated. And their cruelty is still aflame, not weakened by the many years of anticipation. But now is the time for retribution. Now is the time for death," _Jakob concluded glumly with himself before he resolutely turned around and faced his crew, the green and red spectacle of vibrant and fluorescent laser-hues outside glimmering in his vision intensifier.

"Alright, everyone!" he said forcefully, catching the attention of his crew as they shifted their expectant gazes towards their superior, "The Venomians are going on the offensive, more and more by the minute. They've launched a substantial amount of troops from their troop transport a few minutes ago, and these pesky newcomers really hamper the efforts of our pilots. From what I could see, the last tactic the Venomians tried to pull off was to encircle our squads with contingents of fighters, thus separating them from each other. However, I don't think that there's any need for us to send out our Arwings. With the new modifications to the Arwings, the already active pilots seem to be doing very well for themselves. Now, I believe that we could significantly tip the odds in our favour if we… how to put this… stemmed the flow of these incoming troops. And I do believe that I'm right, aren't I, Ensign Hawthorne?" he asked enquiringly, looking his radar-analyst in the eye.

The young arctic vixen quickly checked with the radar before she fixed her lustrous sapphire gaze on Ghost and said affirmatively, "Yes, sir, I agree with you. From what the radar says, the largest addition to the Venomian numbers seems to come from the troop transport. If we can take it out, I'm sure it would lessen the pressure on the other pilots."

Jakob did not waste a moment of precious time to consider if it were the right thing to do. Kyra had given him confirmation in his theory, and that was all he needed for his conscience to justify his manoeuvre as a plausible action. Ghost had prepared for this scenario and had a plan of action within his head, resulting in him snapping his head to the left, "Jackson, accelerate to cruise speed and get us within striking distance of the enemy troop transport, but keep to the edge of the battle. See if you can't sneak around the fray somehow. Watch out for flak and incoming enemy interception squads!" he ordered authoritatively. In reply to the order, the canine at the guidance controls merely brought a paw to his temple and flashed a wicked grin.

"Going all in, eh sir? Fine by me! Sit tight and buckle up, folks. We're firing up the engines!" the lieutenant said enthusiastically. Almost instantly, the ship gave a slight jolt as the engines of The Valaria were woken from their relatively slumbering state, now flaring a vivid spectacle of green as the cruiser slowly began to drift through space and towards its intended target. And in the meantime, Jakob had more preparations to see to.

"Williams!" he barked, swinging around to the right to face his weapons-officer, "Charge up the IPCs, and make sure that no anomalies occur. If anything unusual happens during the charging, let me know. I want to be fully prepared to strike a blow into the heart of that transport. Understood?"

"Yes, sir! Right away!" the silvery-furred lupine answered eagerly, his paws dancing across the buttons around him with unmatched professionalism. On a small screen in the middle of the control panel, Ghost could see two pale green diagrams of the Ionized Plasma Cannons, which were slowly turning a crimson red as the plasma energy started to accumulate within the deadly devices, like water building up behind a dam, ready to flood the surrounding landscape with devastation if the dam was broken down. But the process was indeed slow, so it did not hinder the commander from continuing the check of his target.

"Hawthorne, scan that transport for me. We need to at least get a basic idea of whether or not we have to make two runs," he informed Kyra as he walked over to her console to follow her progress and let Williams work on the IPCs in peace. All the while, the now noticeable hum or mumble of the ion and fuel-propulsion engines was present on the bridge as Lieutenant Jackson smoothly guided The Valaria closer to the behemoth capital ship, which was the Venomian troop transport.

The massive ship outsized The Valaria several times, making it a seemingly impossible endeavour for the medium-class cruiser to bring the giant troop transport down. But if there was anything that experience had taught him, Ghost knew that size did not matter. Their IPCs, although very small when compared to the size of the troop transport, still held the capacity to unleash devastating power at the mere touch of a button. Energy powerful enough to rip a hole in most hulls, no matter how big the ship was when compared to The Valaria.

Kyra deftly pressed a few buttons next to the radar, which made a three-dimensional image of the transport pop up on a small screen a few seconds later. Green informative text rolled across the picture at a frantic pace, but the arctic vixen was trained to read this kind of fast-paced scanner-information and deliver the essentials, "Standard Venomian troop transport, sir. Weak shields, oddly enough, but an unusually high degree of armour plating. On these things, there's often a significant contrast between low-class armaments and high-class flak armour. Our scanners were not in optimal range at the moment of scanning, but they did graze the hull enough to come up with a guess. We're probably looking at a large layer of the same armour, which is on the Zeram-cruisers, sir!" Kyra coolly informed her superior. But although she tried to sound calm and relaxed, she could not quite veil that final reverberating tone of hopelessness, which was present in her last sentence. Kyra knew the unyielding nature of high-quality Venomian flak armour, and as such did not believe that a weapon existed, which was powerful enough to even make a dent in the hull.

And it seemed that Jakob heard that final note of concern, for he simply smiled widely as she said it and started to talk merrily; a reaction which made a noticeable frown of doubt appear on the forehead of the arctic vixen, "Don't worry about that, ensign. That was all I needed to know. Let me tell you something. I read a file from the research department of the Cornerian Army before I got here, and it gave me a certain impression of our weapons: The IPCs we're equipped with are the latest and – presumably – the most deadly pieces of anti-capital ship artillery in Lylat as of now. And when they're fully charged, as Williams is priming them to be right now, they can tear through and obliterate almost anything with ease. And high-class Venomian armour shouldn't be a problem, either. It's not an unknown material to the Cornerians, so I would expect them to prepare their weapons for that, also. And if it only has weak shields, it just makes our work ten times easier. Just sit back and watch the show, Hawthorne. And good work on the scanning!" he complimented her, just before the next step in his plan was achieved with Jackson's affirmation of their position.

"Sir, we've reached the optimal position for firing. We haven't been tracked by the ship's auto-turrets, and the range is perfect for us to get a good shot with our IPCs," the husky stated concisely, swirling around in his seat to face his commander, who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Perfect! Shut down the engines and hold position here. There's no point in risking our necks by moving in any further. We might just get tracked," Ghost mumbled contemplatively, instinctively reaching out for something to hold on to as the ship seemed to give a sudden lurch forward, made by Jackson's immediate shutdown of the engines. And with the passing of engine-activity, the steady hum, which had filled the bridge also dissipated, giving way for a most awkward ensuing silence. During these few seconds of unspoiled quiet, each and every one of the crew-members let his or her gaze pass one another, as if to signal that this was the critical moment. This was the moment where they could truly help. As the wavering gazes of his crew grazed his eyes, Jakob felt it as if each of the lucid stares held a silent prayer for him to let them show what they could do in such a situation under his capable guidance. He nodded solemnly to himself a couple of times, inwardly acquiescing in these unspoken requests, before swiftly voicing his next order, which was obeyed without delay. This unexpected happenstance of sudden serenity had explained more in the shortest of moments than an exchange of words ever could.

"Williams, report on the IPCs! Anything unusual?" the commander said questioningly, walking to the lupine at the weapons terminal. As he got there, Williams quickly finished punching in the last digits in a series of weapon confirmation codes before turning his head slightly to face Ghost. On the small screen in the control panel, the diagrams of the weapons glowed an affirmative crimson, indicating that the energy payload was as high as it could be, with no anomalies within the ionized plasma-flux.

"IPCs fully charged and no anomalies registered during the charging process, sir!" the wolf informed coolly, albeit with a quavering note of eagerness beneath that self-controlled demeanour. Moments like these were what he was trained for, what he was specialized in doing, but every time such a moment arose, he could not help but feel a little bit eager to press the trigger or fire button and rid the Lylat System of another sinister scourge.

But despite the lieutenant-commander's obvious anxiety, Jakob kept his stern gaze fixed on Williams and spoke up again. There was yet another thing which had to be taken into calculation before firing, "Wait just a moment, lieutenant-commander. Ensign Hawthorne informed me not too long ago that the transport was equipped with a shield. A rather weak one, yes, but a shield nonetheless. Set the "toppling"-frequency of the IPCs to approximately 1, 5 Mega-Hertz. I doubt the Venomians could manufacture a weak shield with more power than that."

His order provoked the swift clicking as numerous buttons were pressed in order to accomplish the set assignment. On the weapon control panel, the commander could see a small fluorescently red needle slowly crawl up along a vertical scale labelled "Toppling (MHz)", stopping precisely between the numbers one and two. And then, Williams' reply of confirmation sounded in Ghost's ears, ""Toppling"-frequency set to 1, 5 MHz, sir. We should be able to penetrate the shield now."

"Excellent!" Jakob replied gladly, "And lastly, set the target to the rear of the main body of the transport, right before the engines. It would be logical to store the power generator there, in order to save space for the fighter craft within the vessel itself."

Again, Williams fiddled with his controls, making the screen in the panel display an entirely different image than before. This time, it showed a crimson, triangular reticle, which hovered over the Venomian troop transport, as it was seen from a camera just above the cannons. At the push of a button, after he had directed the crimson harbinger of death where he wanted it to be, Williams made the reticle lock on to the exact spot, right before the engines of the enemy troop transport, a slightly more transparent replica of the reticle now laying itself at that place to indicate that the sight had indeed been locked there.

"Target acquired! We're locked and loaded, sir!" Williams announced briskly, an almost feral grin of satisfaction and anticipation playing across his lupine visage.

In reply to this, Ghost merely nodded before saying curtly, "Good. You may fire when ready." The commander turned around again to face the window, quiescent and shrouded in the night-black leathery veil that was his trenchcoat, just as he had done some time ago; his eyes narrowed intently and fixed on the troop transport. He wanted to make sure that he did not miss a moment of its demise; this bothersome entity which had suppressed his valiantly fighting comrades so severely. And Jakob's wish was soon to be granted. The transport was still spewing out fighters intensively, completely oblivious to the presence of the large Cornerian capital ship hanging in space beside it. The crew was too focused on quelling the Cornerian advance on the battlefield in front of them to really perceive incoming threats from any other side.

A low rumble began to echo throughout the entire cruiser as the cannons on The Valaria prepared to channel the mighty amount of energy, which now resided within them, into a concentrated, devastating beam. In this channelling process, a lot of force was involved. Among them was a high concentration of kinetic energy as the ionized plasma-flux was pressed to the tips of the cannons. The crew aboard the cruiser felt this in the form of a weak trembling, which began to erupt suddenly, making the walls and floors of the large ship vibrate faintly, but not unnoticeably. As the rest of the crew shifted a bit in their seats to accommodate themselves to this sudden quiver, Ghost merely adjusted his footing a bit to stabilize himself, but was otherwise untroubled by the abrupt tremor.

And then, as suddenly as it had come, the quivering stopped, giving way for a deafening emission of lethal energy from the Ionized Plasma Cannons. Had the crew been outside of the ship to watch their own handiwork in full view instead of just seeing it from the bridge, they would have seen a spectacular glimmer in the seconds prior to the energized attack. Not only were the rays of Solar refracted in both the shields of The Valaria and the crystalline matrix around the tips of the cannons, creating breathtaking nuances and hues of all the colours in the visible spectrum, but the distinct light purple and fluorescent glow of the fully charged ionized plasma-flux was also present at the tips of the IPCs, creating a constantly waxing and waning fascinating backdrop to the refracted hues glimmering all around it. This peculiar phenomenon persisted for some time in the void, shimmering strongly against the inky blackness.

And when the accumulation of energy was complete, with a deep, sonorous hollow sound that reverberated in the ears of the onlookers and in one last explosion of breathtaking, colourful splendour, the monstrous amount of energy was discharged from the devices which had held it in for so long, as the IPCs unleashed their destructive power in two magnificent purple plasma-beams. The two beams almost seemed to converge at the main point of their target, the one that had been specified by Williams' instructions, ripping effortlessly through the advanced armour plating that made up the hull as if it were nothing more than ordinary thin steel plating, making the engine and rear compartment of the troop transport explode in a blinding flash, while the other half still remained intact, albeit with no fighters spewing from it any longer.

And yet again, another one of those inexplicable moments of total and unspoiled silence ensued after this devastating attack. But this one was not caused by the unnerving feeling of uncertainty, but rather by anticipation to see if the attack had done more damage than that, which had just happened. And it seemed like Ghost's assumption about the power generator being placed there proved to be correct, for after what felt like an eternity, the mighty troop transport began to tear itself apart from the inside, blowing up as a result of the energy chain reaction that had been initiated by bombarding the generator with an ionized and energized plasma-flux. It started only as a faint glow, but then, as the explosions grew in size and amount, the energy and flame became apparent on the ship's outer hull also. And at last, the troop transport succumbed ultimately to the enemy energy bombardment, exploding into a rapidly expanding and unusually bright incandescent orb of flame, hurtling blackened and twisted chunks of fragmented metallic debris all over the sector.

Ironically enough, the death of many caused the ecstatic cheer of the few, at least if one was situated on the bridge of The Valaria a few seconds after the explosion had died down. Every member of the crew was cheering wildly, complimenting one another and their human superior for their excellent work up to this critical manoeuvre. And in the midst of it all, Jakob stood with the biggest and widest smile of appreciation on his face that he had had for ages, happily taking part in the praising of his crew. They had definitely proved their mettle in this conflict, and it could only get better. He was well aware that had he been given a less competent crew, this might have taken time to work out; time which they did not have. But the Lylatians did not mind his leadership either, it seemed, if one judged from their happy and cheerful reactions to the outcome of the carefully executed attack.

"_This just proves that the legend holds true. Just as David slew Goliath with his small but lethal sling, so have we today also bested a behemoth with our seemingly undersized, but nevertheless immensely powerful, weaponry. Size doesn't matter, it seems, and appearances can be deceiving. That can surely be deduced from this attack, if not anything else."_ Ghost thought contemplatively before he let the festive and confident mood on the bridge captivate him as he spoke up solemnly, using a few bits of earthly philosophy to spice up a little impromptu morale speech for the Lylatians.

"Right. You might think that this would be the only attack we would launch against the Venomians. But you're wrong. They've forever shattered the hopes of peace between the Cornerians and themselves by persisting with their malicious war. And when peace has died, the only suitable defence is an unrelenting offence. Everyone, back at your posts!" he shouted commandingly, albeit still with the smile playing across his face, "Williams, prepare a Star Slayer, Class III. We've relieved the Venomians of the burden of their heavy troop transport for a start. Now, let's go and help our friends relieve them of their Zerams!" he ordered confidently, focusing his attention on the Arwings swarming around the medium-sized Venomian capital ships.

"Affirmative, sir! Will do!" the silvery-furred lupine grinned before punching in various new commands on his weapon control panel with lightning speed.

---

Like the people aboard The Valaria, many of the fighting Cornerian pilots cheered happily as they saw the giant troop transport vanish in the prodigious explosion. And it was also as if they could feel that the concentration of Venomian Invaders grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Each of them realized that the only reason for their being alive at this time and for having lasted so long in this conflict was the new maintenance process the Arwings had been going through, implementing new state-of-the-art energy shields and lasers. But despite their tremendous advantage in the battle, the Cornerians did not raise their hopes too high just yet, for there were still problems that needed to be dealt with. Everywhere, laser bolts were flying. Everywhere, Venomians in Invaders were lashing out at their enemies. And everywhere, John's omnipresent shout of frustration and fear was echoing out of the comlink.

"Sweet merciful crap, they're all over me here! Get 'em off, get 'em off, get 'em off!" the young lieutenant shouted shrilly as he blasted in through the gap between the two Zeram-cruisers, which were lying side by side in a last desperate Venomian attempt to fortify their position. Hot on Saber's tail were eight Invaders with blazing laser cannons, the simian and reptilian pilots inside the hostile fighter craft targeting the unfortunate human with flaming murder in their bulbous eyes.

John had been flying in his usual reckless manner as the Cornerians had decided to launch a crushing offensive at the Zerams. In his hubris, he had ordered his squadron to stand down and help the others take on the cruiser, while he distracted and eliminated their fighter escort. The first part of the plan did succeed admirably; it was the second part that faltered. As it was often the case with his impulsive and precipitous stratagems, Saber had laid no definite strategy as to how he should handle the approaching threat when they were as many as they were, how he should manoeuvre or in which flying pattern or –method he should fly. The result of this lack of proper planning was – quite simply – that he abruptly turned tail when he confronted the enemy and boosted away for dear life.

"Hey, didn't you hear me the first time around, guys? I need help, and it's got to be now!" John shouted heatedly as he deftly barrel-rolled through a narrow opening between two flak turrets on the side of one of the Venomian cruisers, in the hope of losing the enemy presence at his rear. But much to Saber's chagrin, his hostile pursuers were equally as well-versed in the art of flying, thus easily avoiding the amateur obstacle, which their fleeing quarry had tried to set before them. As they regained their heading after the evasive dodge, the eight Venomians simultaneously primed their weapons, zeroing in on their target with their homing sights. A shrill, ear-splitting frantic beeping began to erupt from somewhere on his control panel, completely deafening the steady hum of his ion-flux G-Diffusers, and as he heard it, John knew that this was it; the Venomians had locked on to him. In a moment, his ship would be riddled by a vicious flurry of laser fire, and then it would be left to chance to see whether or not his ship would actually hold. He steeled himself and clamped his teeth together, preparing for the worst.

But the worst never came. Instead, there was the sound of laser fire being fired in his direction from a good distance away, then the violent booming sound of two ships blowing up. Looking hastily out through the back of his cockpit window, the lieutenant spotted a team of two Arwings moving in for yet another shot, through the debris of the newly demolished Invaders. And as he recognized the pilots, he could not help feeling all warm inside due to the large burst of contentment, which welled up in him.

"Krys! Cain! You came! Say, haven't you got a cruiser somewhere that's waiting to get its butt kicked?" Saber grinned haughtily as he dodged and weaved yet again to avoid another vengeful salvo from the Venomians. To this, Cain responded by swooping down upon the hostiles like a graceful bird of prey, his viridian lasers blazing aggressively, obliterating two of the fighters effectively, so that only four were left now.

"Hey, Saber, don't think of us like that! I told you I wouldn't forget it when you rescued me and my squad from that ambush, so I feel it as an honour to repay you like this. Consider it mutual gain: We'll both live and be able to aid each other in the future!" Krystal smiled happily as she zoomed down from above, letting loose a devastating flurry of laser fire, which tore through the hulls of two more Invaders effortlessly.

"And hey, any friend of Krystal and Team Star Fox is a friend of mine!" the lupine private said excitedly and started to align his aim on the last two Venomians. Cain would also have annihilated them, had it not been for the sole Arwing that suddenly appeared over the top of the other Zeram-cruiser, preceded by a wild hail of laser fire from its cannons, which demolished the last two Invaders on the spot as the sharp-eyed ace pilot within the vessel got them in his sights.

"Sorry, kid; just a bit too fast for you. But you know, I'd like to get my share of the cake every once in a while! And I believe that this adds two more to my score, cap-boy!" the self-righteous avian known as Falco smirked complacently and tauntingly to John as he veered off on another course to aid the other Cornerians with the Zeram-cruisers. Now free of immediately impending danger and murderous pursuing hostiles, Saber and his new wingmen, the fanatically protective lupine private Cain and the young cerulean Cerinian Krystal, decided to do just the same as they banked sharply upwards to escape from the impromptu narrow trench between the cruisers where they had been fighting, finally emerging into the freedom of space, casting curious glances around them at the chaotic battle-scenery, which unfolded itself in the void right before their very eyes.

White glimmering Arwings were darting back and forth along the Zerams like relentless hornets, constantly letting flurry after flurry of highly energized viridian laser rain down upon the mighty hostile craft. And the enemy had slowly started to succumb to the persistent bombardment. One of the Zerams – the one Krystal and her squad had rushed earlier on – was already suffering from a slightly malfunctioning shield generator. From the fragile coating around the energy-rich core, blue tongues of pure energy were sometimes belching forth from the numerous cracks, which had materialized in the otherwise so resilient matrix. The other cruiser was still standing strong in regard to its shield, but it was rather pinned by the multitude of Cornerian forces swirling around it, so it was clearly only a matter of time before it would be damaged as well.

Reducing a few stray Invaders to yet another cluster of interstellar vapour trails with his lasers, John decided that the time had come to show the true strength of the Cornerians and retaliate with deadly force, now that one of the cruisers was as weakened as it was. Setting his comlink to broadcast to all Arwings in the immediate vicinity, the lieutenant boldly announced his forthcoming offensive, "Alright, everyone, this is it. It's time to dish out some pain! Everyone who feels like it and is not occupied by attacking the other Zeram, form up around me! Let's make a run on that damaged shield generator!" he grinned confidently.

And shortly thereafter, his slightly reckless plan had apparently won a lot of appreciation in the hearts of the Cornerians, for Saber soon found his ship to be flanked by a swarm of other triangular, metallic guardians, eager to fulfil his request. He glimpsed some familiar faces through some of the cockpit windows; Krystal, Cain and even Falco who came swooping to the lieutenant's position with a squadron of his own as soon as he had heard the plan about the daring offensive. And just as everyone had assembled, and the massive Cornerian juggernaut of armoured fighter craft was about to set off on a perilous vector for the damaged shield generator on the other Zeram-cruiser, another valiant pilot on approach hailed the assembled plethora of Arwings over the comlink.

"Hey, Saber and all you guys! Don't forget about us, man! If you're going to take down that damaged Zeram, we're with you!"

John turned his head to the side in astonishment, only to see a group of twelve Arwings heading straight for them from further inside the battlefield. And in the lead was a combination of pilots, which would certainly strike fear into the heart of any Venomian squadron that crossed their path. From one of the cockpits in the front ships, Mikki – who had sent the call – was beaming widely with contentment because of his and Fox's successful escape from the violent maelstrom of Invaders, which had encircled them earlier. In another cockpit, Fox sat with a wry and expectant smile on his face as the combined squads joined up with the assembled Cornerians. And the timely return of the golden-furred vulpine to the centre of the hellish fray provoked an instinctual exclamation from a loved one.

"Fox! You've returned to us! I trust everything's alright?" Krystal queried concernedly. But her concern did not last for long as Fox swiftly delivered an assurance of his optimal condition to the young vixen. He knew she could mentally torture herself for hours by troubling herself about his well-being, and he did not want her to live through this kind of anguish in the midst of a critical fight.

"No need to worry, Krys. I'm feeling as good as ever! But really, when we get back to the Great Fox, thank Shield. He's done an incredible piece of work out here today," Fox said solemnly, nodding respectfully to the sergeant in the Arwing adjacent to him, "Now, just form up behind Saber, and let's see what plan he has in mind."

When the last newcomers had settled into the formation, John took over authoritatively, the muffled hum of all the G-Diffusers present drowning his speech slightly, "Right. This is the plan, clear and simple. We'll all converge on the shield generator and give it everything we have, but about halfway there, the formation should break on the middle. The second contingent can then make a swoop up to the bridge and pummel them in the face with some laser. Maybe that'll show 'em, and maybe it'll also start a chain reaction in the ship… or something," the lieutenant mumbled absently, a bit hazy on the last part of the plan. But in truth, he had just developed a cunning stratagem, which was not flawed by the inconsistency caused by his otherwise impetuous acts. His newly assembled strike group saw no glitches in this plan, either, and as a result, they all blasted off on Saber's signal; a loud and unmistakable "Yee-haw!"

The glimmering swarm of metallic fighters, pursued by a virtual haze of fluorescent engine exhaust, opened fire as they were relatively close to the generator on the Zeram, letting a devastating combined barrage of viridian laser fire fly and slam into the volatile fusion device, creating violent cyan sparks on the outside of the generator as the stability of the processes taking place within it was thrown into disorder. And as the multitude of Arwings had flown about half the distance to the cruiser, a segment of the Cornerian swarm did indeed break off from the formation, just as John had instructed, only to bank sharply to the right in a narrow arc, making a pass on the bridge and riddling it and its occupants with a vengeful hail of laser. When they had steered clear of this perilous trajectory and returned to the now fleeing formation of Arwings, the Zeram was already spiralling helplessly around its own axis due to the mayhem and chaos which the Cornerians had just inflicted on the bridge, rendering the proud ship completely defenceless.

And it seemed that a shield generator going haywire was as good a means to destroy an enemy capital ship as any continual bombardment, for the broken device emanated larger concentrations of previously contained lethal energy by the minute, the protective barriers around its core finally collapsing to give way for a violent cyan energy surge, which enveloped the Zeram-class cruiser in a matter of seconds, tearing the sturdy ship apart and making it perish in a brilliant shimmering explosion of greenish-blue hues.

"Yeah! Eat that, you freaks! Another cap ship down! That's the way to do it, guys!" Saber shouted vengefully and triumphantly over the din of other shouts of jubilation, which echoed out from his comlink. And as the assembled cluster of Cornerian fighters started to turn their attention towards the other Venomian cruiser in the hope of assaulting it as well, thus decimating The Venomian Remnant completely since this was the last enemy ship left in the fray, they were effectively halted in this endeavour by the crew of The Valaria, who had decided to launch a pre-emptive strike with their own ordnance as the other Arwings distracted the Zerams.

A sleek, blue-black missile-like object with a narrow flat head and pointed fins protruding from it streaked through space on a direct crash course with the shield generator of the other Venomian cruiser, a low hiss originating from the small ion-propulsion engine at the rear of the deadly contraption. The automated turret defences on the last Zeram were still operational and targeted the approaching threat swiftly, letting loose an intricate and intertwining curtain of crimson bars of energy. But the upgraded navigational system within the Star Slayer Class III torpedo simply adjusted the angles on some of its shark-like fins cautiously, enabling the ominous harbinger of death to glide and weave smoothly in between the laser beams. And as it finally connected with its chosen target, the Star Slayer exploded with a muffled roar and brilliant flash, shattering the transparent matrix, which encased the volatile core of energy, with its prodigious payload of devastating explosive ordnance.

And this strike paved the way for the swift downfall of the last Venomian Zeram-class cruiser as the resulting energy surge seemingly devoured the behemoth of a ship in much the same fashion as it had done with the other Zeram, effortlessly obliterating the armour and hull as well as the interior of the ship in a matter of seconds, leaving an immense cloud of blackened debris and dust; the only visible remainder of the once so threatening Venomian Remnant. A threat which had now been removed from existence by the valorous and determined fighting of the unified Cornerian forces. But also, as the gathered Lylatians inwardly reminded themselves amidst their chaotic glee, by the aid of the untraditional, flexible and resourceful leadership of three courageous and trustworthy alien beings from a foreign and far-away solar system.

But as Fox wiped the salty sweat of anxiety from his brow, Krystal heaved a deep and content sigh of relief, Slippy donned an overjoyed grin and Falco grumbled irritably because of John's noticeable lead in their competition, the Lylatians gathered around Shield and Saber's Arwings and congratulated them profusely in the middle of the demolished Venomian fleet. But amidst the happy and festive mood, which had abruptly substituted the coolly analyzing and objective one that had been prevalent during the fierce battle, they did not even think about the fact, which seemed so closely connected with neutralizing threats that it could almost be considered a valid rule: Whenever one threat had been eliminated and removed, another one stood ready to take its place. And because of their lack of forward thinking, the unfortunate Cornerians were about to experience the scorching reality of such an arising hostility.

---

"We have contact, sir! Our torpedo has struck its target!"

The apt exclamation as their projectile smashed forcefully into the generator came from Williams, who had been watching the Class III's progress on a small status screen. Witnessing the vibrant demise of the massively fortified Zeram a couple of seconds after the silvery-furred wolf had informed him of the hit, Jakob turned around to face his crew, an unusually sadistic grin playing across his face.

"That's a confirmed kill! Wow, I just can't believe how mind-bogglingly stupid these Venomians are. I mean, just look at their ship design. Which ignorant and untalented species puts its shield generator on the outside of its ships? The outside, of all places! I guess they still have a lot to learn… if they can learn at all after we've dealt them this crushing blow today!" Ghost chuckled wonderingly. But in reality, the sadistic grin was a greatly inappropriate guise for the overwhelming feeling of relief, which welled up inside him. Firstly because the greatest threat to Lylatian peace and security had now been eliminated, and secondly because the commander's zealous belief in a supreme Lylatian victory in this conflict had not been misplaced. This was a great relief to him, for it meant that the young human had not been filling his Cerinian friend with false impressions and vague hopes when he assured her about their victory in this battle.

"_Krystal will definitely see that I was right in what I told her, when I return to the Great Fox. Hell, I believed in it ever since we were told about this offensive, so there's no reason why she shouldn't, either,"_ Jakob thought to himself, smiling reminiscently for a moment as he imagined the unquestionably valiant contribution to the resilient Cornerian resistance against their enemy, which had been delivered by the young cerulean vixen. Krystal was certainly more than capable of defending herself and others in times of need, and as such, the commander deduced that she had undoubtedly been faring well during this conflict.

With the slightest hint of a black glint of sadness flaring in his eyes, Ghost eyed his crew serenely as they turned their expectant gazes towards him to receive his next order. But no order came, only a thin apologetic smile as Jakob let his gaze sweep around the bridge, dwelling intently upon each of his crewmembers respectively.

"I'm sorry, guys, but there won't be another order from me for some time. We've just finished our offensive, and that's what I've been put here to lead you through. But before I leave, I just want you to know that it's truly been an honour for me to work with such effective, competent, skilful and committed crewmembers as you. Each of you has displayed an amazing and rare amount of technical and strategic savvy while under my command, and I doubt that other Cornerians could do it as well as you've done. Thank you!" the commander said solemnly, before he let his gaze settle upon Kyra, whose lustrous sapphire eyes darted frantically from him and to the radar as he spoke, eventually widening in considerable astonishment as she took another glance at her instruments.

"Yes, Ensign Hawthorne? Is there something I should know?" Ghost asked the arctic vixen enquiringly, having noticed the restless nature of her gaze. Kyra took yet another glance at her instruments, as if to assure herself that what she was seeing was real, and then looked at the commander to answer his question.

"I don't know if this is important, sir… But I'm picking up some rather strange readings on the scanner!" she said anxiously, clearly evidencing that whatever she was seeing was not something, which was normally discovered in the aftermath of a battle. Ghost frowned slightly in unspoken alertness, any thoughts of leaving the ship being instantly banished from his mind as he heard Kyra's tense stating of her situation.

"Hmm… Strange readings, you say. What are you seeing?" Jakob queried curiously as he briskly strode over towards her console, his leathery, night-black garment swishing around him with each pace. As he was looking over Kyra's shoulder at the screen she was pointing out, he could see a measurement of different subatomic factors commonly found or measured in space; the level of photons, radioactive nuclei and the gravitational constant in the current sector, to name a few. And as he laid eyes on the current measurement, letting his gaze sweep across the information displayed with a fluorescent green text on a black background, he whistled softly in surprise, impressed by what the scanner was telling him. His amateur study and interest in physics and science back on Earth, also the branch of it which revolved around astronomical phenomena, aided him this time as well, just as it had done numerous other times in Lylat before.

"Well, well, well, what do you know? The gravitational constant is rising, noticeably! Strange… Almost as if something with some kind of density is being deployed outside…" the commander mused aloud with his characteristic British accent, arching an eyebrow in wonder. This cool behaviour around scientific information made the tiniest hint of a wry smile appear on Kyra's vulpine visage, since she was pleased by the fact that other people than her, even human beings from another solar system, could find excitement in the intricate world of science. But the mild wonder was soon replaced by growing suspicion and bewilderment, for as the readouts suddenly changed drastically on the scanner from one second to the next, a noticeable deep frown of confusion appeared on Ghost's forehead.

"What the hell? Now the gravitational constant is slowly dropping, but the level of photons is sky-rocketing like crazy! Something's not right here… something's definitely not right here!" Jakob mumbled worriedly before being confirmed in his suspicion by the horror-filled exclamation from Lieutenant Jackson at the controls. The commander had turned his back on the window as he had studied the readouts, and hence he had not seen what had just appeared outside the window.

"Sir, turn around and look at this! What the devil's happening here?" the elderly husky asked anxiously, the shrill note of fear reverberating through every syllable in his worried query. Prepared for whatever mind-blowing phenomenon the Lylat System might throw at him, Ghost exhaled deeply and turned around, only to be confronted with what he had vaguely suspected the mysterious presence to be, thus rendering him unable to reply with anything but an apt utterance of surprise and awe; an expression that had just impulsively flown out of his mouth during G-Wing's descent on Sauria to neutralize a Cornerian Army splinter faction a month and some weeks ago..

"Holy mother of the Krazoa! What the heck is that?"

The Arwings flew around outside the new manifestation warily, unsure of what they should do. Some distance away from The Valaria, a gaping hole in the very fabric of the universe had materialized. Seeing what made up the hole itself was rather hard, as it basically consisted of a round layer of blackness atop the natural darkness of the void, but one way to do it was to look at the stars surrounding the strange occurrence. The brilliantly white light from them was bent and skewed in odd irregular angles as it was refracted through this peculiar extraterrestrial lens. Determining the location of the hole, on the other hand, quickly proved not to be a particularly strenuous endeavour due to the shimmering field of pale greenish hues, which spread out from the hole in a wide cone. This strange emission of extra-dimensional energy, Jakob thought, gave the cone of force an eerie and unsettling luminescence, almost as if it indicated that this manifestation was the gateway to an alien world, a frightening abode into which a lone interstellar traveller should not stray if he wanted to keep his sanity. The chaotic flicker of greenish hues already did a good job of twisting the rationale and sanity of any onlookers.

Ghost was jolted out of his contemplative reverie as Kyra anxiously informed him of the changes that gradually occurred, "Sir, the gravitational constant and the density within this hole, or whatever it is, are gradually weakening more and more by the minute, especially at the edge of the "tunnel"; they're still pretty strong in the core. But the level of photons is shooting upwards like nothing I've ever seen! It looks like space itself, the very universe, is… bending?" the arctic vixen said doubtfully, a strong note of insecurity being present in her conclusion.

Jakob coolly analysed the information, which his technical supervisor had just given him, within his head, considering her hypothesis of space bending itself. But as much as he tried to implement it in his reasoning, he could not get the physical facts to match. There had to be another explanation. And as he considered the connections between the various factors that were involved, his cognisance of scientific principles allowed him to fabricate a more feasible hypothesis. With only a short moment of silent contemplation preceding his swift reply, Ghost turned around to meet the expectant gazes of his Lylatian crew.

"No, ensign; unfortunately, I don't agree with you on this one. Space isn't bending. If it were, the gravitational constant and density of the phenomenon would've been much higher and not weakening by the edge of it, and we would thus be dealing with a black hole. But here, the gravitational constant and density are becoming weaker the further we come out from the hole itself, while the level of photons is unusually high, increasing more and more by the minute. It's more like space is emitting energy to clear a path, hollowing itself out instead of bending. You'd never find such a high emission of photons in a black hole, only crushing gravity which isn't present here. And as such, I think we can logically deduce that we aren't dealing with a black hole. With all these facts, I can think of only one probable explanation," the commander said cogently as he turned around and eyed the ominous phenomenon intently yet again.

"It's a warp portal," Jakob concluded grimly, "And something's coming through."


	8. Chp 6: Powers of Deduction

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Before I begin this chapter, I'd just like to offer my warmest thanks to my loyal readers, reviewers and fellow authors: **knightcommander,** **s57**, **Ice Fox 111**, **GamerJay** and also **foxbird22**, the newest of the bunch. Welcome to CtA, foxbird, and I do hope you enjoy it. ;-) Well, I really feel the need to thank you guys for your incredibly supportive and helpful reviews, which - in addition to reminding me of possible flaws - also keep me greatly inspired and wanting to write more for you guys to read and entertain yourselves with. Wait no more, my friends... chapter 6 of CtA is here. Again, I do hope you like it. Enjoy. :D

**Chapter 6: Powers of Deduction**

From Peppy's log: _Right when an old enemy perishes, a new one is eager to take its place, it seems. This strange thing, which has just appeared after our war of attrition with the Venomians, clearly spells trouble for the Cornerians. But what we don't know yet is what sort of trouble it will bring. However, I have a feeling deep down in my gut that we'll soon find out what it has in store for us._

"Holy crap! What the hell is that?" a certain young human lieutenant cried in utter awe as he swung his Arwing around to take a closer look at the strange, extraterrestrial light-skewing portal, which had abruptly appeared in the fabric of the obsidian-like blackness of the void. The fluorescent cone of force sparkling with greenish hues was still stretching out from the hole, slowly churning around its centre, pulsating every now and then with obscure emissions of highly concentrated energy.

And John was right in being taken aback, for the other pilots, Cornerian as well as the other human present, stood in complete amazement when confronted with this inexplicable and curious phenomenon. And as exciting as this occurrence admittedly was to look at, Fox told his comrades in arms to exercise extreme caution nonetheless; when dealing with such an alien manifestation, one could never be too careful.

"I don't know exactly what it is, Saber, but keep your distance anyway. Since we've just exterminated the Venomians, I wouldn't be surprised if this was something much worse," Fox mused worriedly, eyeing the portal with obvious resentment. He had just expected his troops to retire to their stations, relax a bit and then celebrate the successful operation when this unplanned and unexpected spatial anomaly got in the way. But the part of his brain, which was still unsure about what this obscure occurrence could be in actuality, was soon to be enlightened, as a message was transmitted to the comlink in every single one of the thirty-six Arwings gathered, the speaker having a characteristic British accent, which could only belong to one person.

"Attention all Arwing-pilots, this is Ghost, reporting from The Valaria. We've conducted an analysis of the apparent hole in the fabric of space, and from what we've been able to deduce, it appears to be a rather stable warp portal. Furthermore, the energy readings we've been picking up suggest that something's on its way through, so be prepared to intercept whatever pops out of that hole. We'll cover your backs if things get out of hand. Best of luck to you! Ghost out!" the commander reported calmly from the massive capital ship hanging in space some distance away.

As Krystal heard Jakob's voice, the young vixen let her gaze wander through space, coming to a halt at The Valaria. The Cerinian heaved a deep sigh of admiration as she thought about her friend, who had somewhat involuntarily been assigned to that ship. Judging from his unwavering way of reporting the seemingly impending catastrophe, it sounded like he fitted right into the role of capital ship commander, with no unfortunate side effects of egoism. She had known that he would fill the position admirably ever since she heard of his relocation, and was not the least bit surprised about his stoic adaptation to the challenges of the job. As the cerulean vixen thought about Ghost's frightful reaction to Pepper's proposition, Krystal could not help but smile reminiscently. That fear had no place in his heart, she thought, and it was not in his person to fret about such changes.

Krystal was abruptly brought back to reality from her all-consuming mental reverie when an ear-splitting shout of amazement and slight worry came out of her comlink, transmitted from Mikki's Arwing. The sergeant had kept his unwavering gaze fixated on the alien manifestation ever since its appearance, constantly watching it warily and cautiously for any signs of disturbance or trouble, and now it seemed like his time of arduous vigilance had finally paid off.

"Yo, guys! Look at the hole; look at it! Something's pushing its way out here right now, man! I'm telling you, there's something there! Form up, guys, form up!" Shield shouted desperately in an attempt to prepare the Arwings for the enemy, which would soon unveil itself before their very eyes. As the order was transmitted to every single ship and the strategies were hastily laid out, the metallic Cornerian sentinels gathered in small defensive groups, their ion-flux G-Diffusers hissing vaguely on lowest capacity while their laser cannons pointed squarely into the hole. And in the midst of the anxious anticipation, which befell the Cornerians at that moment, their newest scourge emerged through the extraterrestrial, light-skewing portal before them, like a true manifestation of chaos itself.

Had any of the Cornerians been in a poetic mood at the instant that this happened, they would probably have described the ship that emerged from the portal as an enormous, interstellar armoured stingray. Having a slightly triangular form, the huge capital ship was covered from front to back with a gleaming layer of copper-coloured flak armour of unknown origin, undoubtedly with very high efficiency against incoming ordnance. The carmine rays of Solar made the fangled armour sparkle and flare with subtle red hues, creating an even more fright-inducing aura around the behemoth of a vessel than that which was naturally present by the mere sight of it.

The vessel was driven by two high-efficiency ion-flux engines at the back, glowing a bright and distinctive azure colour as they stood on the smallest amount of propulsion available to the crew. At the front, the stingray-shaped ship boasted two purple-tinted windows to its bridge, which contributed even more to the rather absurd appearance of the ship as an organic being since these windows were eerily reminiscent of sinister eyes, looking menacingly at the pitiful Lylatians that opposed the entities in control of the vessel. Six rapid-firing laser-cannons and four high-energy plasma-throwers adorned the sleek underside of the alien capital ship, exactly at the place where its hull stretched out to either side of it in thinner sections like a couple of built-in wings. Or at least, that was what they looked like to the Cornerians, for the design was so peculiar and so alien that the Lylatians could not be sure in their hastily concluded assumptions.

Both types of armaments were encrusted in the strange, copper-coloured matrix, which also made up the hull. The assumed laser cannons were short and stubby, like small gnarled sticks, at least when compared to the considerable vastness of the entire ship. At the end of each one was placed an object, which the Lylatians estimated to be the energy crystal that was normally encased within the cannon, not sitting on the outside. This one was slightly reminiscent of an amethyst, if one haphazardly excluded the fact that this gemstone was glowing with an unsettling dark shade of purple, clearly evidencing that the weapon was brimful of devastating energy that could be unleashed at any given time. The plasma-throwers were basically an enlarged version of the smaller laser-cannons, spanning a larger width and much longer length, not to mention the fact that they were heavily emblazoned with auxiliary purplish energy crystals, also glowing brightly with alien energy.

Fox eyed this huge monstrosity for the shortest of moments before the well-known spark of resolve, the one that had ended the lives of so many enemies that had dared oppose him and his team, began to flare aggressively in his viridian eyes, resulting in the heated utterance of a simple order, "All fighters, engage and destroy!"

And it was no problem for the gathered Cornerians and two humans to boost hectically towards the towering hostile construct in compliance, for they wanted just as much as Fox to lay waste to this sudden intrusion upon their allegedly safe Lylat System. Splitting into three groups to divert the first bolts of incoming, eerily glowing dark-purple laser fire, the Arwings executed a pincer movement on the coppery capital ship, closing in on their enemy in three overwhelming metallic surges from the left flank, right flank, and a straight rush on the centre, their whitish hulls sparkling magnificently in the light of the ancient sun. As they got close enough, they let a devastating barrage of laser fly remorselessly from each front, the energy slamming forcefully against the unyielding shields of their alien opponent. The shields glowed a phosphorescent green as they effortlessly absorbed the incoming viridian barrage of destruction, before the ship responded with a dark-purple flurry of its own, sending its own laser blazing from all six rapid-fire cannons, the purple energy-rain of almost certain doom hailing down upon the unfortunate Lylatians.

"Break off, goddamnit! Get the fuck out of here, man!" John shouted nervously with the high pitch of fear echoing in his anxious exclamation, whereupon the assaulting juggernaut of valiant Cornerian fighter craft abruptly changed course and sped away from the alien capital ship, back towards the place in space from whence they had come. And miraculously enough, the hellish bombardment of energy from the behemoth cruiser ceased, having effectively turned the fierce assailants into the cowering prey.

Now safely out of harm's way, the exhausted Saber had found the time he needed to take a look at his shield gauge. And what he saw made his eyes widen in astonishment mingled with sheer horror. The vengeful barrage of purple laser had dropped his shields to a mere thirty percent, despite having only being blasted for a rather short period of time. This was far more punishment than the Venomians had ever given him over the course of as short an interval, which had just transpired. Mikki's apt exclamation, which rung out from John's comlink shortly afterwards, only supported Saber's preliminary belief that these new hostiles were not to be taken lightly. And above all, that they should not be estimated as being equally as average as the Venomians had been.

"Holy mother! He almost drained my shields, man! How the heck could this happen?" Shield asked bewilderedly, lining his squadron up with the other fleeing Cornerians. Unfortunately, no-one was able to give him a timely response before another remorseless discharge of energy occurred from the now seriously dreaded armaments onboard the alien cruiser. What it let fly was a charged, eerily glowing purple plasma-bolt, its size and length approximately equal to that of a torpedo. Following a carefully plotted trajectory and flight angle, the pulsating projectile of energy streaked through the pitch-black void, directly towards the most imposing vessel in the immediate vicinity.

---

The occupants of the targeted capital ship had long since abandoned any thought of standing down in this fight and considered themselves ready to counter any action presented to them by their enemy. Their senses had been tuned during the battle with the Venomians, resulting in the crewmembers on the bridge being sharp and aware. Nevertheless, despite this partially adrenaline-induced temporary acuity, the plasma attack from the alien capital ship took them all completely by surprise, simply because of the impulsive nature of the attack and the sheer fastness, with which the energy projectile was flying.

Kyra was the first one to notice it, for obviously, the arctic vixen had not once left her place at the radar console. But she was also taken aback by this sudden and unprovoked attack on The Valaria, and she let that surprise and tension shine through as a reverberating note in her quivering voice as she shrilly informed the bridge of the impending threat, "Incoming! Energy signature, possibly a torpedo, coming in fast!"

This heated statement made every other crewmember wince in surprise, before Jakob swiftly gave an order, which occurred to him to be the most logical thing one could do in such a situation, even with his limited experience with cruiser-leadership, "Jackson", he barked, "commence evasive manoeuvres immediately!"

The elderly husky at the guidance controls quickly took a glance over his shoulder at Kyra's radar before he replied hopelessly to Ghost's demanding request, a sepulchral note of bitterness showing in his remark, "We can't, sir. The thing's moving too fast. It's impossible to perform any evasive manoeuvres!" Jackson gritted his teeth in irritation after this glum reply; he hated this feeling of powerlessness that one could sometimes encounter when facing off against an unknown enemy.

Instantly deleting the idea from his mind as soon as it had been denied, Ghost tried once again to fabricate a solution to the problem, which was growing bigger and bigger outside their front window. The purple blot in space inevitably raced closer, steadily closing the gap between it and The Valaria. If it was an energy signature, he thought, it would make no sense firing at it, since it was in some way incorporeal. And since evasive manoeuvres were apparently also out of the question, his mind reached only one feasible solution, as the approaching projectile still increased its size as it streaked through the void. _"We might just be able to cushion the impact this way,"_ the commander thought before taking action.

"Right. Hawthorne!" he shouted suddenly and resolutely, making the arctic vixen jolt in her seat in surprise and settle her lustrous sapphire gaze upon him, "Divert twenty-five percent of any available power to the shield generator at the front of the ship, and raise shields. Now, ensign!" Jakob yelled commandingly, provoking the swift clicking of buttons as Kyra deftly executed his order. A few moments after, a slightly muffled hum was heard on the bridge as the shields were raised, originating from outside the ship.

"Front shields raised and reinforced with extra power, sir. We should be able to withstand the impact now," Kyra said anxiously, eyeing the purple projectile as it streaked swiftly towards their ship. As the hostile piece of ordnance came closer and closer, the crewmembers gathered on the bridge braced themselves in their seats and fixed their attention upon the phenomenon, which approached them faster than anything they had seen before. Only Ghost did not take a seat, but stood defiantly in the middle of the bridge, calmly watching the plasma bolt as it was inches away from colliding with The Valaria. And then, the moment came.

The eerily glowing projectile slammed against and exploded all over the front of the Cornerian capital ship with tremendous force, rendering the perfectly white armour aglow with a dull purple luminescence as the shields absorbed the harmful radiation from the plasma bolt. The pernicious energy contained within the hostile shot was averted so profoundly by the shields that the crew really felt the impact, Jakob losing his footing with a yelp of surprise, unfortunately landing slightly on the back of his neck.

As the energy from the blast had cleared and The Valaria had returned to being its normal, lustrous self, Ghost emitted something like a growl of irritation as he picked himself up from the floor and stretched his neck a couple of times to get rid of the rigid stiffness that had accumulated in his muscles after the abrupt fall, "Damage report!" he groaned wearily, only to receive a cheerful reply from Kyra not soon after.

"Shields and hull are both intact. There's neither any damage to the hull, nor is there any energy overload in the shield generator. It seems that your plan worked, sir!" she smiled contently, receiving an affirmative nod from the human in return before Lieutenant Jackson at the guidance controls suddenly witnessed an unquestionably odd manoeuvre from the enemy capital ship.

"Sir, it's fleeing! The alien ship is fleeing!" Jackson exclaimed amazedly as the other crewmembers joined him in his fascinated stare. And the husky was certainly right, for the alien ship had suddenly and unexpectedly commenced a turning movement, so that the gathered swarm of Arwings was facing the huge azure engines at its back in a matter of seconds. And then, these prodigious constructions of propulsion flared vividly, albeit also ominously, for seemingly the shortest of moments, before the alien capital ship lurched forwards with a sudden jolt of power and sped off through the void on an unspecified course, leaving a quickly dissipating trail of ionized azure exhaust behind it.

"Damn it!" Williams growled in frustration and hammered his clenched fist into the control panel, "It's already out of range. Too bad; I would've liked to show it some of our own armaments!" he grinned brutally, but was abruptly interrupted in his speech when a call came through on the comlink. The broadcaster of the call was none other than General Pepper, sitting in his usual upright posture behind his voluminous desk at the Cornerian Army Base. His voice, keeping its hoarse and ragged tone, was heavy with suppressed worry and anxiety, despite the annihilation of The Venomian Remnant.

"Attention all ships; this is General Pepper, reporting from Corneria. We've monitored your progress by satellite, and the top brass and I can only compliment you for your extremely valiant efforts against the remainder of Andross' vile and deceitful troops. However, this sudden appearance of an alien and unidentified enemy clearly spells trouble yet again for Lylat. But for now, you should only celebrate that one of the longest living and most persistent threats to the Lylat System is gone for good, thanks to your unyielding and determined performance out there today. Well done! Now, all ships dispatched from the Cornerian Army, return home. You'll be called for when the need arises again… which could very well prove to be pretty soon. As for Team Star Fox and G-Wing, regroup at the Great Fox. I'll contact you there when I've discussed this matter with the proper authorities. Pepper out!" With that, the image of the aged visage of the bloodhound disappeared from the comlink screens where screens were available, leaving only a trail of black and white static. In the loudspeakers, the silence of the General's absence was punctuated by hissing static before the devices were swiftly turned off.

Jakob stood frozen for a couple of seconds after the message had ended, not believing the fact that he was to return to the Great Fox when he had just familiarised himself with The Valaria, but then he nodded solemnly to himself. If that was Pepper's will, let that will be done. With a smile flickering across his lips, the human commander bade his Lylatian crew goodbye and was about to walk briskly down towards the Arwing-hangar when he turned around slowly, a wondering expression conquering his facial features.

"Oh, I just had one more thing I'd like to ask you," he said apologetically, fixating his gaze upon Kyra at the radar, "From seeing the truly awkward action our adversary just took, one might indeed immediately conclude that they fled from us because of sheer trepidation of our armaments. But mightn't one also question this premilinary belief when one takes into account the overwhelming power of their own weapons and shields? That is to say… that plasma-blast we absorbed, would it be potent enough to penetrate our shields if we hadn't fortified them?" he asked the arctic vixen enquiringly.

She looked briefly at some energy readouts before answering Ghost's query objectively, "There's a very strong possibility that it could happen, yes. But we came through it unscathed, sir, so why would you want to know something that could cause you worry?" Kyra queried, returning his question.

"Because that rules out the possibility of our enemy escaping in fear of us," Jakob murmured worriedly. In actuality, an odd thought had just manifested itself in his head as he had seen the abrupt escape that the enemy vessel had decided to make, even despite the fact that the Cornerians did not make a single dent in its hull. But he would not vent this nagging concern before he was safely onboard the Great Fox and could address Pepper directly. As he had gotten this satisfactory answer to his earlier question, Ghost asked another one, which was integral to the small investigation that he intended to conduct about the unexpected attack, "And how well are we outfitted when it comes to tracking mechanisms? Can we pinpoint the location of a vessel, which has just grazed our sector, by following its ion trail?"

Again, the arctic vixen smiled contently before replying, obviously glad about having a superior who used all the talents she possessed, "Yes, sir, we can actually do that. Just give me some time to zero in on the trail and follow it. You'll have my answer in approximately half an hour. I'll transmit it to the Great Fox," Kyra informed him before pulling a piece of paper out of a small slit in the control panel and waving it back and forth.

Jakob nodded in acceptance as he voiced his opinion on his radar-analyst's plan, "Good. Please commence your search immediately. I'll be waiting to hear from you. And what's on that paper?" he asked curiously as he snatched it from Kyra before he walked out of the room and towards the Arwing-hangar.

"Your friend's enemy kills, sir!" Kyra grinned wryly.

---

After all of the Arwings that had filled it previously had departed, the hangar of the Great Fox looked extremely desolate and bare. But the approaching seven Arwings had no idea of knowing it, nor did they care, for they were all engaged in discussions or conversations with one another. Mikki, Fox and Slippy were talking enthusiastically about the scourge that the Venomians had been until this day, Krystal and Cain debated tactics and what could perhaps have been done better in Cain's contribution to the safety of Krystal and her squad, and naturally John and Falco fiercely discussed who had won their Invader-blasting competition.

"Man, I just can't believe that they're out of the picture now! I mean, I know what the Venomians have done to Lylat; not to mention to you, Fox. It's just so weird that they're finally gone!" Shield exclaimed happily, but also slightly in wonder. He was sufficiently acquainted with the history of Star Fox to know what the Venomians had stood for through all these years, and to have toppled them as easily as they had done today was a strange feeling, even to the competent human sergeant.

"Hey, let's just accept that we beat those guys, and then call it a day, alright? Those Venomians give me the creeps!" Slippy mumbled anxiously, shivering in his cockpit. But in actuality, as Fox also complemented him shortly afterwards, Slippy had not at all been in the same chaotic state of confusion and need of help that he was in so often during various campaigns. Fox or one of the others had only been forced to break off a few times and clear the hostiles from Slippy's tail.

Meanwhile, a friendship was slowly flourishing between the two individuals, who drifted along at the side of the formation. Happily receiving Krystal's kind and benevolent suggestions to his combat-style, not to mention her heartfelt thanks for his valiant and fierce protection of her fighter, Cain started to bend off on a slightly different trajectory as the teams got closer to the Great Fox; the trajectory towards Corneria.

"Well, I believe this is where it ends for me… at least for now, that is!" the lupine recruit said with a wry grin, "I can only hope that we can get assigned to more active duties in the future, so that I can hone and develop my skills in your presence. Thanks for all the kindness you've shown me, Krystal, and for letting me join your squadron. Catch you later!" Cain shouted enthusiastically before activating his afterburners on full throttle and speeding off on his newly calculated vector.

The young Cerinian looked after the haze of purple ionized G-Diffuser exhaust with a warm smile. That recruit could perhaps prove to be a useful acquaintance in times to come, Krystal mused. But her mental reverie did not last long, as the cerulean vixen was jolted out of it by the constant bickering of John and Falco over the comlink. The pair made up the rear of the formation, and their fervent discussion had persisted ever since the teams were ordered to return home from the fray. As they continually debated their macho-performance against the Venomians, Krystal could not help but sigh inwardly. It was simply a brutal blood-sport, the concept of which had eluded her completely. If one wanted to prove one's nobility and resourcefulness towards one's friends, one should not be judged by how many foes that were slain, but rather by the inner workings of the mind and one's mental and social competences. If one could fight additionally, that was just an added bonus; at least in Krystal's opinion. That was why she valued Ghost so highly as a dear and resourceful friend, she thought affectionately with a reminiscent smile playing across her muzzle, as the thought of her human friend manifested itself in her mind. But even this musing was abruptly broken by John and Falco's constant bickering abot their victory over the comlink. Not knowing what else to do since she had now been robbed of her peace of mind so profoundly, Krystal heaved a slightly irritated sigh and decided to listen in on their conversation.

"Alright, man! Let's count… again!" Saber droned tiredly since Falco kept rejecting whatever number John managed to calculate, obstinately proclaiming that he had the highest score, "I demolished that squad of ten that tried to ambush Krys at the beginning of it all. Then I blasted all the turrets off of that frigate afterwards. I think there were fourteen of them in total, or something like that, so that leaves me with twenty-four fried bastards on my record. Now, what did I do after that…?" the lieutenant mumbled enquiringly, seemingly insecure about how the whole scenario had played out, despite the fact that he otherwise stated to be perfectly aware of what had transpired.

The iridescently feathered avian merely smirked complacently and waved a blue-feathered wing at him in dismissal, "Man, you might as well stop thinking about it, cap-boy! You don't even know what the heck you've been doing out there! Then how should you know exactly just how many you've killed? Let's just forget about it and conclude that I won with my forty-five kills, alright Saber?" he asked, smiling wryly.

"Or rather, Falco, how about this idea: Let's not!" a voice with an unmistakable British accent said sharply as another Arwing swooped in from behind, laying itself behind John and Falco's vessels. Glancing warily over his shoulder, Saber noticed his fellow comrade Jakob waving a paper around for him to see. Although he did not let it show obviously, John was actually pleased to see his friend back from the cruiser-ordeal. Moreover, he was interested in the strange sheet of paper that Ghost was flailing around, donning a wide smile on his face as he did so.

"Hey, J-man, good to see you, dude!" Saber shouted happily, "Say, what's that paper you're sitting with there? Something concerning… oh, I don't know… me?" he finished his question, a complacent grin playing across the lieutenant's gaunt face.

The commander in the Arwing behind him nodded enthusiastically, "How did you ever guess, Saber? Let's see what this paper says, shall we? This is an official printout from the ship computer onboard The Valaria, stating that Arwing number 6675, 43 – that's your serial number, right?" Jakob asked John enquiringly, who – after having looked various places on the screens in his control panel – affirmed it shortly afterwards with a curt nod visible through his cockpit window, "Well, as I was saying, that your Arwing has attained a total of fifty-two enemy kills, without any miscalculations present, that's a guarantee. Congratulations Saber!" Ghost grinned contently, eyeing John's obvious joy about his victory.

"Yeah! Did you hear that, Falco, huh? Did you? You just got beaten by the best, bitch, so shut up and accept that I won. That's right, me!" Saber reeled off at an insane pace, completely ecstatic by the fact that he had just won their blasting competition. Shaking his head slightly in silent wonder, not feeling the least bit of animosity towards the lieutenant surfacing within him, Falco laughed softly to himself and prepared for the usual landing procedures as the teams were about to fly through the shielded maw of the Great Fox hangar.

---

When all the Arwings rested safely on the floor of the hangar, the pilots hastily disembarked to greet each other properly. First out was John, who did not waste a moment of precious time before dancing wildly around the hangar in some sort of ecstatic victory dance, because he had unexpectedly prevailed against the haughty avian Falco. Mikki jumped out shortly after this, eyeing the energetic lieutenant in considerable wonderment before finally reaching Jakob's craft, just as its occupant disembarked it, still clad in his trenchcoat, gloves and battledress like a material black shadow emerging from the cockpit. But this shadow had a remarkably human face, which split into a wide smile as soon as the commander spotted his faithful friend and ally waiting on the ground below.

"Hey, man!" Ghost said merrily as he jumped down, giving Shield a high five when he had landed, "I trust those pesky Venomians weren't too much of a problem for you?" he asked jokingly, smiling wryly.

The sergeant merely waved his hand in dismissal, a smile flickering across his placid visage, "Nah, they were nothing to speak of. But goddamn, were they unrelenting and persistent, man! I mean, just as soon as you had killed five of the bastards, another five just popped up from nowhere. I'm telling you, it was like a frigging hydra! What a nuisance!" Mikki grinned broadly, obviously content about the successful offensive.

The duo walked out to the middle of the hangar, where the rest of the Star Fox Team greeted them. Slippy was unmistakably proud of his valiant contribution to the unyielding offensive against the Venomians, which he indeed had good reason to be, as the others complimented him, so he was smiling widely as the group of seven lazily sauntered to the control room to await their debriefing by Pepper.

But it was on the way there that the unfortunate consequences of Jakob's stumbling fall onboard The Valaria revealed themselves. As he walked, Ghost still felt that rigid stiffness and the feeling of swollen flesh at the back of his neck where it had slammed against the floor, and no matter how much he tried to stretch his neck with a subtle grunt of pain each time, hoping for his muscles to loosen up, it did not go away. The commander sighed inwardly and was about to return to his contemplation of the things he would say to Pepper about the alien participant in the battle, when a caring voice sounded from behind him.

"Ghost… I know it's probably not my place to ask, but what's that thing at the back of your neck?" Krystal queried worriedly, walking a bit behind him, no doubt having a free line of sight to whatever had manifested itself on his neck.

However, Jakob was not aware that something could be there before Krystal mentioned it to him, and as such, his only answer -given as a question - showed this confusion, "What's what?" he asked flatly in return.

"That blue-black mark on your neck. I don't know what it is, but it doesn't look good," the cerulean vixen said softly, now mending her pace, so that she came to walk beside him. Puzzled as to what she could possibly mean, Ghost let his hand sweep across the back of his neck again. And then he discovered the real reason for the stiffness and the feeling of swollen flesh. Even through the black leather glove, which encased his hand, he could clearly feel that an accumulation of blood had materialized there, making his skin tense and rigid, and also giving the distinct blue-black colour that Krystal mentioned. With a soothing smile on his lips, Jakob eyed the young, worried vixen without the least bit of nervousness about his injury showing in his expression.

"Ah, that! It's nothing to be worried about, Krys; just a little bruise I sustained as The Valaria was rammed by a plasma charge. It doesn't even hurt… well, a little bit, but certainly not enough to keep me off my feet!" he grinned reassuringly to Krystal. But the content grin was replaced with another distorted grimace of pain only a moment after as the bruise sent another throbbing impulse of anguish through the nerves of his neck, forcing a hesitant irritated groan to leave his mouth.

Krystal eyed her friend intently as she saw this sudden shift in expressions. She would not allow herself to be the source of his endless excruciating pain if it proved to be worse than this, and she had not intervened. But with her experience regarding the nature of the mind, the cerulean vixen thought herself in possession of a quasi-mental remedy that would surely ease the pain, even for those not as strong in psychic feats as the Cerinians.

With conviction ringing through every syllable of her concerned utterance, Krystal offered Jakob a piece of good advice on this particular matter, "If the pain only gets worse, and you can't seem to get rid of it, why don't you try and meditate it away?" she asked sincerely.

To her amazement, the question, which she had asked in all seriousness, was only answered with a soft laughter from Ghost, as if he thought the idea to be completely ridiculous, "Meditate?" he chuckled amusedly, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at her, "Oh, come now, Krystal, you've got to be kidding me, right? I mean, I'm no Cerinian; I don't really know the ways of my wayward mind, and I certainly can't restrain it and shape it to my liking the way you do," he said self-deprecatingly.

"But it's nothing to be worried about, Jakob! It isn't an advanced psychic process at all!" Krystal beamed reassuringly at him, receiving a quizzical look from her friend in return, "Look, all you have to do is to steady your breathing, empty your head of thoughts, and then attain an equilibrium in body and mind, so that you don't focus on the outside world even despite the pain, which I know you have no problem doing. And when you've done that, you only need to will your mind to stop the pain, and it does! You'll see that you enter a temporary trance, a higher state of mind where no impediments from the physical world exist. If you're experienced enough, I believe that you can make this trance last, and use it as a "sixth sense" in combat. Some of my friends back on Cerinia could do that, at least. Come on, just give it a shot! It can only fail," she persisted staunchly.

Attentively taking in every word the young vixen said, Ghost listened to her explanation of the process of meditation, also clearly registering the adamant note of resolve, which rested just beneath the polite surface of her words. She really wanted him to go through with this, he concluded, only for his own good. And since she seemingly wanted it so badly, Jakob thought that there could be no harm done in giving it a try, just like she suggested.

Almost convinced by her rant, Jakob looked at Krystal searchingly for some time, rethinking it one more time within his head, before finally nodding in acquiescence and reciting yet another bit of memorized philosophy in order to prove the point he would be making, "Alright, Krys, I admit it. I judged your proposition too harshly just before, now that I think about it. I found it utterly strange to begin with, and as such, I rejected it because of this strangeness. But this is where you should know the saying of another philosopher from Earth to understand my sudden decision to try it out anyway. Nietzsche reminds us that: "The irrationality of a thing is no argument against its existence, rather a condition of it". You see? Just because meditation seems alien to me since I haven't tried it before, then it doesn't necessarily mean that it won't work if I try. It's indisputably still a recognized and existing method of mental healing; it's only in my mind that it doesn't work, namely because I haven't had any previous experience with it before."

The commander paused in order to give the cerulean Cerinian beside him some time to understand what he was saying, and then he gave a wry, unconcerned smile before he resumed his talking, "I'll try it your way for once, Krystal. Maybe it's easier than it sounds. But it'll be after the debriefing, and if it doesn't work, I'll do it the old-fashioned way with five hours of recuperative rest and a bag of ice!" Ghost grinned cheerfully, patting her lightly on the shoulder before striding up to the front of the group where Mikki and John were located, leaving Krystal to her own private musings.

---

As it was almost to be expected by the elderly and dignified canine general of the Cornerian Army, Pepper's image already flickered on the holo-screen as Team Star Fox and G-Wing entered the triangular control room on the Great Fox, swiftly taking their respective seats. Even though the general had claimed that he should discuss the matter with the proper authorities before contacting the teams, it seemed that whatever discussion there had been had gone unimpeded by the otherwise inevitable distractions of conventional bureaucracy, and had proceeded swiftly. Peppy was in his usual seat next to the control panel, giving him an advantageous position in regard to overlooking the other team-members as the strategist he had become. When he saw the Lylatians and humans enter, a warm and pleasant smile spilt the grey-furred monotony of the elderly hare's visage upon seeing that those dear to him had survived the virtual hell unscathed.

"Way to go, all of you! I knew that those Venomians didn't prove to be a problem. You really taught them a lesson this time, and I doubt they'll be back anytime soon. James would be proud of you, Fox!" Peppy said encouragingly to the gathered teams, letting his gaze rest upon the golden-furred vulpine mercenary as he uttered his father's name. Peppy had been extremely fond of James during the days of the original Star Fox-team, and when his son took over after his death, the old hare had almost found a reincarnation of the valiant James McCloud in the equally as gallant and spirited Fox. Partially lost in his reminiscing of past days, Peppy did not notice the general sending him a stern glance.

"Yes, yes, well done to all of you, both Star Fox and G-Wing, but this isn't the time to wish we had the souls of the deceased with us. A new crisis is threatening Lylat, it seems, with the sudden appearance of this alien craft after the defeat of the Venomian troops. I've had my analysts working on the image of it, which was transmitted here by the same satellite that we used to monitor your progress, but nothing conclusive has turned up so far. It doesn't bear any revealing racial signs or markings; the design is completely unfamiliar to us. And to top it off, it escaped before we could manage to analyse it further. I don't know if anyone of you has anything else to add. If you haven't, I think we must realize that we've reached a dead end, at least when it comes to the identity of these alien attackers," Pepper said glumly.

"You bet we've got something to add, sir!" Mikki said heatedly as he spoke up from the back of the bridge, "Those laser cannons on that ship, or whatever they were, hurt like hell!" The sergeant abruptly fell silent, realizing the harsh language he had used in front of Pepper before continuing apologetically, "Pardon my language, sir, but I really mean it. Even with those new shields in the Arwings, they just kept blasting and did much more damage to us than the Venomians ever did. Whoever we're now up against has got some serious firepower… and knows how to use it!" Shield emphasized strongly.

His statement was quickly supported by John, who had also experienced the remorseless power behind the hostile laser blasts on his own shields, "Yeah, sir, my buddy over there is right; I can attest to that. Those alien bastards really pack a punch, no doubt about it. And for unleashing it upon us, I think they should rightfully die!" the lieutenant exclaimed energetically, a stone-cold glint being present in his eyes. However, this murderous decisiveness slowly dissipated as Saber realized that they did not know the whereabouts of their new foe. Slightly shameful, he continued, "But there's a problem about that dying part of the plan, I'll admit. We don't even know where they are!"

Before Pepper or anyone else could say anything abut this problem, Jakob turned his head slightly to face the general, "Don't worry about their current elusiveness, sir," the commander said calmly, almost airily, "I have my radar-analyst, Kyra Hawthorne, working on an analysis of the ship's ion-trail in the hope of reconstructing and following its flight path. I'm sure she'll come up with a possible location, where we might find these attackers, in some time. However, when she does, I strongly urge you to take any and all details, which she brings up, into consideration. We'll need a viable and effective contingency plan now that we find ourselves in this egregious situation, lest our chosen course of action be a failure," Ghost concluded his statement, turning his head yet again to look at the sparkling immensity of the stars present in the pitch-black void outside, their white, luminescent surfaces aglow with energy-developing processes. As they hung there statically against the backdrop of the jet-black universe, nothing spoiling their impeccable, celestial whiteness, the commander found his thoughts straying to tales about angelic emissaries of the skies back on Earth, and how they had helped mankind prevail against evil several times.

"_Well, in order to prevent the Lylatians from crushing themselves in their rash offensive against these aliens, as I have no doubt that Fox or Pepper will suggest, we could surely use some divine intervention right now. I may have a plan to avert such a catastrophe, but let's see in which direction they choose to go first,"_ Jakob thought contemplatively, a thin, wry smile being present on his slightly aquiline visage.

Pepper, slightly disturbed and worried by the fact that the weapons on the ship were so powerful as Mikki and John had evidently experienced, needed only to hear that Ghost's crew was working on something in order to track down the alien attackers before he decided on a course of action, despite his otherwise nagging worries, "Good, commander; then our hope of finding them is drastically improved, I would assume. Now, when we discover their hideout, I propose to send the fleet in for an all-out offensive. Even though their weapons are more powerful than what we're used to, I'm sure that we can cripple them by sheer numbers and the presence of our most skilful pilots!" the general exclaimed charismatically, which only provoked affirmative responses from the Lylatians gathered in the room.

For the second time during their stay number two in Lylat, Mikki objected to one of Pepper's militaristic endeavours, clearly seeing the obvious lacunae being present within the hastily fabricated plan, "Sir, you know that I'm usually an avid fan of combat, but this is simply too rushed to make sense. I mean, you don't even know the kind of planet they're living on yet, if it's a planet at all, not to mention the psycho-defences that'll be there. For all you know, you could be sending your fleet to its death, man! This is nonsense!" Shield said forcefully, his voice taking on an unmistakable sharp edge of slight anger, puzzled as he was by this seemingly incoherent piece of strategic planning, fabricated by one of the supposedly sharpest minds of the Cornerian Army.

And the sergeant's doubtful attitude was only affirmed by a deep, troubled sigh, which originated from the shadowy form that sat slumped down in a chair at the back of the room, next to the window. Now that he had a reason to sigh in this troubled way because his estimation of the situation had proved to be correct, that the Lylatians were indeed headed towards the rashest solution they could find in order to end the crisis swiftly, Ghost turned his head yet again to look at the Lylatians gathered in the room, before he spoke slowly and glumly, the right half of his face illuminated by the faint, white light of the stars.

"Ah yes, there it was, just as Shield said. The thing I had anticipated… and also feared. The typical Lylatian rashness when it comes to dealing with conflicts, which prove to be too much of a problem to start with. And I think that there are several things in this encounter with the alien cruiser, which clearly indicate a deliberate attempt to make you do this. Yet another occurrence, which I fear will only precipitate the Cornerians into a full-scale war… and that's exactly what our enemies want," the commander concluded grimly, venting the nagging concern that had manifested itself in his mind during the attack on The Valaria and the subsequent escape by the alien cruiser.

Having never before felt distrust towards the human, Fox understandably felt it as a weird sensation when this exact feeling started to well up in him as he heard Jakob express his doubt towards the Lylatian course of action. Surely, they sent their fleet out on most campaigns to deal with the enemy opposition, but in Fox's opinion it had never failed. They got the job done, but lost a few valiant troops in the progress, which was of course sad, but a necessary sacrifice nonetheless. And when they were stranded without the least bit of information about their enemy, Fox could not see what good it would do to suddenly question the Lylatian motives.

"And how do you see that, exactly?" Fox asked Jakob enquiringly, resentment seething subtly in his voice as the vulpine glowered at the impertinent commander, "Our attackers chose to escape in the middle of it all. If they really want us to go all-out with an offensive, why didn't they just engage us there and then? I'm telling you, they ran in fear!" the Cornerian mercenary insisted. But surprisingly enough, Ghost was not the only one to doubt if the chosen course of action was right.

"Wow, wow, wow… Wait just a minute, Fox-boy!" John spoke up as he held out his hands in a calming manner, meaning for Fox to slow down and think it over again, "Something's fishy here, I can feel it. If they had kept on firing at me, they would've destroyed my ship in the blink of an eye. But they didn't. Instead, they chose to back off, even despite all of their psycho-weapons, and even despite the fact that we didn't even scratch their hull. If it went so well for them, and they had all the odds on their side, why the hell would they then choose to escape in fear? Something doesn't add up!" Saber said slyly, a complacent smile on his face and a triumphant glint radiating from his grey eyes.

And it seemed that Jakob found this reasoning much to his liking, for he gave the lieutenant a wide smile of admiration before he amiably continued to elaborate on his musings about the unexpected attack, his characteristic British accent shining through during this long speech, "That's good thinking, John. Really good thinking! Now, as for your strategy, it's never wise to deal with such matters conjecturally, Fox. If you do, you'll only end up suffering the unfortunate consequences of being so rash. And it's no good, either, that you only insist on sending the fleet, and aren't thinking about alternative ways to execute this strike. Such methods could maybe help to improve our odds in a clinch with an enemy we hardly know. I can think of at least two confrontations within recent time that really demonstrate the bitter consequences of engaging in an offensive as adamantly as you do. May I elucidate?" he asked politely, before being answered by a nod and an affirmative gesture from Fox.

The vulpine did want to hear his human comrade in arms out, now that he had lapsed into the logical reasoning, for which he was known in Lylat, and was not just bluntly disagreeing with the battle plan without giving a proper reason for his disagreement. Krystal eyed the commander amazedly with her lustrous emerald eyes as he spoke, but he had grown so used to her fascination of his processes of reasoning that he hardly ever noticed it anymore. Bearing the slightest hint of a grin on his face, Ghost stood up from his seat and started to pace around slowly, continuing his rant about the Lylatian strategy.

"Very well, then. If we look at this chronologically, the first episode that springs to mind is undoubtedly your attack seven months ago on the very group we've just eradicated today. The Venomian Remnant. You send in your entire fleet – well, almost – and you drive them back slightly. But what happens? Cloaked ships decloak, and open up with several batteries of missiles straight in your face. The Cornerian Army loses several precious ships in this devastating strike, firstly because they've underestimated the troops that Oikonny has in his possession, and secondly because they haven't thought about encircling his armada, using a pincer movement or something like that, which would hamper him and limit his chances of troop-movement. They're all coming directly from the front, which is a very favourable angle if you're on the defensive. Then you can throw all sorts of nasty things and troops in their heads, and Oikonny most certainly did that day. Furthermore, adopting a multi-angular strategy wouldn't have given Oikonny a free shot on every available ship in the fleet, since they wouldn't all be coming from the front, but rather from all sides. As I see it, you were too self-confident there, thinking you could solve it all with the presence of your fleet, frontally skewering the heart of your enemy.

"Now, after some days of strenuous warfare, you've finally discovered that the Aparoids are the real culprits behind all this. You've even found the location of their home world! And this brings me to my next example of your rushed combat strategy. You open up an extradimensional gate to the Aparoid world and send your entire fleet through it, hoping to end the conflict swiftly and with brute force. And what happens? In the blink of an eye, almost before you've had time to realize it yourselves, you've lost twenty percent of your fleet and are forced to retreat. Twenty percent, Fox!" the commander emphasized sharply, "I bet that wouldn't have happened just as fast, or at least you'd be able to put up a more convincing offensive, if only your fleet had scattered and attacked your enemy from various angles, from all sides of the planet, instead of just head-on. And that's exactly my point. Something like these two scenarios might very well transpire if we decide to rush head first into this offensive without planning our strategy carefully, based on the scant facts that we've obtained until now. I hope that you see what I mean, and that you understand my concerns by now, Fox." Jakob finished his speech.

When he had concluded this thorough presentation of two of the most remarkable strategic failures in the history of the Cornerian Army, Ghost actually thought Fox to be convinced. But the vulpine was indeed, just as Jakob had suspected, very adamant in his standing about this subject, as was Pepper, for the two of them continued giving him sceptical looks. And if it were so that they would have to be convinced further, he thought, he would just have to resort to other means. Recalling an example from the encounter today with the alien cruiser, the commander spoke up again.

"Alright; if that strategic conjecture seems unfeasible to you, here's another one, which is slightly more likely. During our battle with the alien ship, it suddenly decided to escape from one moment to the next, even despite its tremendous edge against us, just as Saber so rightly said. Wr didn't even make the slightest dent in its hull with our barrage, and its firepower was so vastly superior to ours, but it chose to turn around and speed away from the battle anyway. Okay, I can live with that – maybe its assistance was required someplace else – but I still find it rather suspicious. But what really troubles me about the appearance of the ship is the limited number of shots it gave off! Now, if it were as superior to our craft as it has been evidenced by my buddies over there", Jakob said, gesturing towards his friends Mikki and John, "why didn't it just fire away and obliterate us on the spot?"

It seemed that Fox, getting slightly annoyed by Ghost constantly pointing out his strategic flaws, found this question to be a perfect opportunity to shoot back at him with a linguistic arrow from his arsenal. Adopting the most fierce glare he could muster in his eyes, the vulpine mercenary glowered yet again at the human commander before him, "I think that I've already told you before, haven't I? It's because of fear, and nothing else. I can't find another explanation for it. And it's also quite probable, isn't it? I mean, we attacked them, and they became aware of our strength despite their shields. And so they were frightened and chose to escape. Isn't that right?" the aggravated Fox spat tensely, exhausted by running around in this perpetual strategic maze, into which he and his crew had been pulled with the dawning of their new extraterrestrial foe.

But much to his discontent, he saw Jakob give a thin, serene smile before he gave the slightest shake of his head in denial as he formally rejected his belief in Fox's impulsive theory, hoping to calm the vulpine commander's ireful spirit with a placid formal facade. This unpertubed demeanour and equanimity, which her human friend now demonstrated even in the face of a violent outburst, made a slight smile of triumph play across Krystal's muzzle. As much as she adored her loved one, his stubbornness was often reason for him to become extremely unwilling to listen to others. And if Ghost could help him realize his stubbornnes by putting him back into his place with words and reasoning, then be that as it may, Krystal thought contemplatively, before she focused her atention on her friend's explanation to Fox, spoken with a distinct equable calmness.

"No, Fox; unfortunately, my instincts keep me from acquiescing to that angered hypothesis of yours. It simply goes againt my instinctual and immediate logic. It wasn't because of fear, I believe, but rather because the shots were the ship's way of encouraging us to follow it and track it down, presumably ending up right in the middle of a carefully planned and devastating ambush or trap. Don't you see? It all appears just a bit too laid out, too staged, to be truly coincidental. Also, the order in which it does things seems rather curious to me. It fires two barrages, one at you and one at us, and doesn't make any manoeuvres to escape until they've both struck home. It's as if the ship just sticks around to see if its opponents did indeed feel the prodding it gave them. When we responded to the attacks, it became clear to the crew that we had gotten their signal, and then they chose to jump out, in order to leave a trail for us to follow, right into the middle of their world, where they presumably have a nice trap set up for us when we come barging through with our fleet. And that's when I mean that our chances of survival and actions to defeat these warmongering strangers might benefit from some alternative planning. In short, all I'm saying is that it might be prudent to try and ameliorate this profound dilemma by coming at it from an entirely different strategic angle of approach. Don't you agree, sir? And Fox?" Ghost concluded his hypothesis enquiringly, looking from Pepper to Fox for support in his ideas.

After this long stream of thought, the bridge was as silent as the grave, the only audible sound punctuating the still vastness being the rhythmic hum of the generator for the holo-screen. Even Pepper's aged visage did not move, in which case the sound of its movement, albeit small, would be transmitted through the idly hissing loudspeakers. When a minute or so of this idle stillness had passed, Ghost shook his head with an annoyed sigh, its sharp sound almost making everyone jump as they were suddenly jolted out of their deep, contemplative musings about the viewpoints, which the commander had just presented to them.

"Whatever the case, it doesn't mend matters," Jakob mumbled irritably, running a gloved hand over his face and through his hair, "Our enemy knows of our presence. He already knows that we've gotten his signal, and he's just waiting for us to stumble foolishly into his cunning web of deceit and malice. Well, in any case, I've tried to utilize my powers of deduction, based on what we've recently experienced. I've just been trying to give you some pieces of good advice about the situation we're in. What remains to be done, strategically and whatnot, is entirely up to you. I've done all I can," Ghost said tiredly, slumping feebly down in his seat.

The all-consuming silence persisted on the bridge for yet another few moments before Pepper finally decided to take a stand. Eyes glimmering with unwavering resolve, the canine general let his gaze sweep across the gathered crewmembers, a bitter and sepulchral note of shamefulness reverberating in his voice as he spoke, "Indeed, you've done all you can, commander. And that is certainly enough. You've made me see what kind of blatant mistake it was to send the fleet in as rashly as we did. And I can also clearly see now that if we're going to prevail against these relentless aliens, we're going to have to rethink our strategy completely. When we discover where they're hiding, I want to see all of you here on the bridge, both Star Fox and G-Wing, so we can discuss our approach to this crisis. Until you're notified about their location, all of you are dismissed."

The general paused and eyed the three humans, who stared back at him expectantly, knowing full well that he was about to say more. And what came next was said very apologetically, as if Pepper feared their reactions, "But this heightened state of alert also means that you will have to stick around some more, Team G-Wing. I'm well aware that you presumably just thought your assignment here to be the campaign against the Venomians, and then you could go home to Earth. But no, not when events have taken such a big turn as they have just now. I would be very depressed if one of my best teams was suddenly to leave in the middle of a crisis like this. And the fact that you're not even from Lylat only increases the need I have for your assistance in this case, for you've just shown me that humans do indeed think in other patterns than Lylatians, and that these human thought-patterns can be quite effective. Actually, this crisis necessitates your continued stay in Lylat if it's going to end well for all of us. I hope you understand this," Pepper concluded his plea, waiting for their responses.

A mildly provocative glint flared in his grey eyes as John leaned forwards in his seat slightly to get a closer look at the elderly canine on the holo-screen before him, "Well, sir, if you want us to stay, you've got to be aware of what options we're facing here. We could either go home, or help you with this thing. If we go home, there'll be lots of games to play and plenty of time to chill. But if we stay here, there'll be less time to chill, although we get to kill a lot of things and save an entire solar system, which isn't even populated by our species, from certain doom. And between these two, I'd say that the choice is obvious, at least for me," Saber finished coldly, dragging out the tension before finally grinning wryly, "Of course I go with the second option, man!"

After the melodious chorus of jubilation from the others had settled in response to the human lieutenant's pledge of his services to Lylat, Jakob spoke up as he applauded his friend, a sympathetic smile on his face, the tiredness that had overcome him before now completely non-existent, "That's the way to say it, John! Great to know that you won't let us down, man! One can never be completely certain about you, dude!" he grinned to Saber, who just waved his hand at him with a smile before Ghost continued, "As for me, I've unfortunately become far too intimately involved with the doings of Lylat, this splendid system, to just return to Earth when we're on the brink of an impending calamity. I do believe that a number of violent concatenations have transpired recently, some of these experiences still waiting to be unveiled, and as such, you Lylatians will need all the help you can get. I'm fully at your disposal, sir!" the commander stated faithfully to Pepper, before looking around at all the individuals present on the bridge.

"Plus", he added warmly, "all of my friends are here, human as well as Lylatian, and what would I gain from letting them down in a time of crisis like this? Only a friendless life, and that isn't worth living. I stand with you in this, my friends, and I'll aid you in whatever way I can. That's a promise!" Jakob exclaimed charismatically, followed by the wild cheer of the gathered individuals.

Now only needing a reply from Mikki, all eyes turned towards the sturdy sergeant as he sat there in his seat, observing it all with a content smile. When the expectant gazes focused on him in search of an answer, he merely shrugged and chuckled a bit to himself in amusement, "Heh, who would've thought this could happen? It started as a simple assignment, but I'll be damned if it didn't suddenly turn into a call to arms instead! Well, what luck that it did, for I can't get myself to let down such a call. If you're still in search of… oh, I don't know… a heavy weapons expert, let's say, there's one sitting right here, ready and willing to blow stuff up for Lylat, sir! So, what's it going to be? Do you accept my offer, even when such a pesky earthling like me offers you assistance?" Shield grinned ironically, perfectly aware that he would be accepted no matter what.

And this ironic query only provoked another round of ecstatic cheering, Pepper shouting over the din, "You're accepted, sergeant! You're definitely accepted!", a broad and content smile brightening up his otherwise so gloomy bloodhound-visage. When the deafening noise of energetic cheering had settled, the general bade the teams goodbye and disappeared once again from the holo-screen in a flicker of static.

Fox looked at the three humans for some time after Pepper's disappearance, an apologetic look being present in his viridian eyes. All this time, he had approved whatever strategic action the general had proposed, never thinking that anything was wrong with it. But today, these humans had really opened his eyes for the obvious mistakes that were present in these plans. He had not wanted to accept this thought at first, seeing as how it went against every ideal and belief he had, but after he had taken some time to consider it, listening to the different theories that were laid out, Fox only needed to hear Pepper's acceptance of this form of elaborate, strategic thinking before he inwardly acquiesced. And now, the vulpine mercenary was indeed sorry that he had judged the Lylatians' human allies so harshly.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry that I was so persistent to begin with," Fox finally said after a time of unbroken silence, "What you presented was just so unfamiliar to me, and I guess I was also still a bit in shock about that attack. How anyone could do that to us, when we hadn't done a thing to them, was completely illogic to me, and I think that it tipped me over the edge a bit. I hope you can forgive me," the golden-furred vulpine said softly, a faint smile showing on his muzzle as he exposed this softer side of himself.

But he needed not worry about facing animosity from G-Wing, which Fox also quickly realized when Shield sent him a wide smile in reply to the shameful admission, "No sweat, Fox! We don't blame you, do we, guys?" the sergeant asked his companions, who both shook their heads in reply, "You see, Fox, there's nothing wrong about your statement to begin with. It's perfectly normal that even a mercenary who's famous across the galaxy can waver a bit when he's confronted by something like those alien bastards! We've already told you that we'll stand by you in this fight, and we won't divert from that. You can bet your life on it!" Mikki said faithfully, receiving an appreciative smile from Fox in return to his spirited statement.

"Well, seeing as all possible controversies have been cleared up now, or at least I hope they are, I'll retire to my room for the time being. I've got something I need to try out that'll probably help mend the bruise I've sustained. Peppy, could you please call for me when Ensign Hawthorne transmits her message about the whereabouts of our alien assailants?" Jakob asked the elderly hare, and – upon receiving an affirmative nod from the Lylatian – turned around and sauntered down the main corridor of the Great Fox towards his room, followed shortly afterwards by Mikki and John, after the two of them had said a respectful goodbye to the Star Fox-team, which remained on the bridge.

Peppy watched their allies walk out with a gentle smile on his grey-furred face, "Hmm… Humans. An interesting race, indeed. And also quite useful allies, when the need for help is dire," the elderly hare mused softly. This statement provoked a fervent response from one of the other members gathered; namely a particular young cerulean vixen.

"Yeah, you're right, Peppy. But they're more than just useful allies. Even though they come from a planet far away from here, and sometimes think in an incredibly different manner than us, they're still also first-class friends. Well, at least the three we've found here are. And I think we should praise ourselves lucky for our find, for it'll be hard to find such devoted and caring individuals at any other planet in the universe!" Krystal commented strongly.

And surprisingly enough, even though there were a lot of planets in the known universe to choose from, no-one else disagreed with her.


	9. Chp 7: Twisted Sphere

**Chapter 7: Twisted Sphere**

From lieutenant John (Saber)'s log: _Still day one after return: Shit, I can't believe that it doesn't end here. I thought it'd just be a quick drop in and out after we had blasted those idiotic Venomians to smithereens. But then that alien ship showed up and screwed everything up! I really want to know where they're located, and then start to kick some butt! They prevented me from chilling back on Earth… and anyone who does that to me has just signed his own death-warrant!_

From commander Jakob (Ghost)'s log: _14:32, Lylatian Standard Time. As puzzled as I was when Krystal told me about meditating my pain away, as anxious am I now to try it out. Who knows, perhaps it might even help, just as she says? Also, there is the pressing matter with locating the aliens, which needs solving before we can proceed any further with the militaristic aspect of our stay. I expect Peppy to call me in a while. But for now, I just have to try that meditation!_

From sergeant Mikki (Shield)'s log: _Right, so we're facing a Lylatian war yet again, huh? Well, that's actually great, because I'm starting to feel quite bored here onboard the Great Fox! I need something to blow up right now… and my hunch is telling me that I'm soon getting something! Yeah, rock on, Lylat! Just send me to all of your problems, and I'll be happy… if it doesn't mean that I'll have to wait onboard a carrier for the rest of the day. _

The room was enveloped in an almost tangible blanket of silence. Nothing moved, nothing stirred, and nothing seemed alive. Not even any of the various electric apparatuses that were placed on standby gave off the slightest beep or any other sound to affirm their status. It was as if life itself had abandoned the sequestered locale for the time being to give its occupant time to engulf himself in his current activity. At least he was alive; one could surely deduce this since the steady breaths, which were the only things that ever punctuated the dull stillness in the small abode, originated from the humanoid that was present in the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of it all, his hands resting gently on his knees.

For this first attempt at meditation, Jakob had decided to discard any unnecessary apparel in order to give himself a better focus on his body and mind. As a result, his trenchcoat and gloves were strewn haphazardly on the light-grey carpeted floor. And, truth be told, he did not really care about them at the moment; he did not even care about the fact that his comlink was still on, the microphone hanging along his cheek and the loudspeaker hissing almost inaudibly in his ear. Right now, his head was practically without thoughts, the only thing present in there being his psyche, or mental self. Having unzipped his battledress slightly at the neck in order to accommodate better ventilation to his body inside the protective garment, Ghost tried fiercely not to concentrate about anything at all. He had closed his eyes in order to shield his mind from dealing with impressions from the outside world, and all he could see in the inky blackness of his eyelids were weird amorphous blotches, the last diffuse after-images of coincidental beams of light that had grazed his eyes, slowly drifting back and forth across his retina, consisting of strangely coloured nuances of nothingness.

This persisted for quite a large amount of time, and the commander was about to let it go and break the equilibrium he was so carefully obtaining, when his psyche obstinately scolded him with a blast of willpower, forcing him to maintain his psychic grip on the state of placidity, towards which his mind was slowly progressing. Focusing on his steady breathing, its sound being a partially rolling crescendo and decrescendo in his inner ear, Jakob soon found his mind drifting on the waves that this vibrating and airy sound seemed to make. And then, as his mind accommodated itself to this higher state of psychic awareness, the visual change occurred, if one could indeed speak of a change in vision since vision was practically non-existent in this mentally sequestered cloister of the mind.

The incoherent and individual amorphous blotches that kept drifting around on the inside of his eyelids started to coalesce, just like amoebae joining together to form larger organisms. As they slowly conjoined and seemingly began to glaze over, Ghost found himself staring, eyes closed, into the hidden realm of the mind. A normally imperceptible fog, consisting of many intertwining and wreathing layers of vivid colour. Bright yellow, red and blue mixing with darker variants of orange, green and purple. As the commander willed his psychic self to drift forwards through the obscuring hazes, he realized that this mental manifestation was all that was left of him. He had left his body behind in the material world, and was now drifting idly through the impulses that his very being produced. Turning the vision of his psyche slowly from left to right in this no man's land of the mind, Jakob tried intensively to locate the source of his pain, the impulse that was being produced by the aching bruise at the back of his neck. At first, that was not what he noticed. Instead, it was something rather unsettling.

Naturally convinced that he was alone in his own mind, Ghost surely felt surprised when his psyche transmitted the impulse that it was as if someone – or something – was spying on him inside his head. Frantically trying to locate the source of this unwanted feeling, Jakob made his psychic self turn and look swiftly to all sides. And it was as he did this that he became aware of a distinct cerulean haze, which hastily darted further into the reaches of the unknown through the fluorescent layers of colour. And as it did that, the pressing feeling of being under surveillance disappeared, only to be replaced by a much stronger one of pain. Looking around once again, the commander found the source of this unpleasant disturbance.

Large crimson waves or impulses of agony were tearing through the intertwining layers of colour with regular intervals, creating gaping wounds in the wholeness of the impulses persisting in his body. Following the impulses to their point of origin, despite the violent surge of pain he was facing, Ghost found the emanation of anguish to originate from an ominously glowing red spheroid, which had lodged itself firmly in the wavering colours, making the strong pain burst out in wide shockwaves every now and then. Jakob knew that he had just found the psychic manifestation of the pain in the bruise at the back of his neck, and as such, he did not hesitate any longer than it was necessary.

"_As the righteous controller of my own mind, I bid you, accumulation of pain and anguish, to disperse! Depart from this psychic realm forthwith, or you shall be smitten by my resolve!"_ his psyche, and thus also himself, commanded authoritatively to the eerily glowing entity in front of his mental eyes. And it seemed like it took heed to his words, for the glow immediately began to flicker and wane as the pain-inducing manifestation began to implode, diminishing gradually until it had disappeared completely and all traces of the numbing pain had vanished, giving way for the natural equanimity and wholeness of his mind to be restored.

Gazing idly around his mind one last time, Ghost's psychic self noticed a shimmering barrier overhead. It looked like it was made by interconnecting celestial bars of energy, glowing a strong white in contrast to the mesh of hues in the lower layers of his consciousness. His psyche decided with itself that this had to be the higher state of mind, which Krystal had mentioned, but the commander was still far too conscious about himself to attain that kind of psychic clarity, which only came with deep and intense trance. That would have to wait until an opportune moment presented itself.

With that, Jakob suddenly noticed the colourful hazes rushing past his mental eyes, as if he were falling quickly through the vividly coloured void of his mind. But this did not last for long, since the hazes began to dissipate, once again becoming the amorphous blots on the inside of his eyelids that they had started as. As Jakob returned from his mind to the state of actual reality, the sound of his own controlled breathing sounded extremely loud in his ears as it suddenly became audible, after this long time of being away from any such sound. Resolutely snapping his eyes open and looking around, Ghost found his room to be in the exact same condition as he had left it, when he went into the meditative state.

In actuality, the room was almost the way he had left it, if one excluded the figures of Mikki and John standing in the open doorway, fully armed and with expectant grins plastered onto their faces.

---

"Damn! Dude, I've got to say one thing to you: You look so bad-ass in that!" Saber complimented his friend with a broad grin as Shield stepped out from his room, where he had spent quite a lot of time preparing his paraphernalia of war since the call had sounded for all Star Fox and G-Wing-members to report to the bridge. New groundbreaking info had apparently come up on the hideout of the alien attackers, and it was beyond John why they should all be assembled there, since it was someone from Jakob's crew, who had originally conducted the investigation. But no matter; since they were all going, and would probably soon be facing a fierce battle, the two friends had agreed to load up in advance, drop by Ghost's room and take him with them as they went.

Mikki nodded his thanks to John standing before him and complimented his appearance as well, "Heh, look who's talking, man! You're pretty well decked out, too!" the sergeant grinned as the twosome slowly sauntered down the corridor towards Jakob's room a bit further down. Even though they worked on the same team, one would not be able to reach that conclusion by looking at their gear. Shield was the self-proclaimed heavy weapons-expert of Team G-Wing, and his appearance certainly showed it. In addition to his standard combat attire, which consisted of a white t-shirt, military fatigue pants with desert-camouflage, extremely durable Cornerian military boots and an undoubtedly protective and sturdy, large flak vest, Mikki also carried several potent weapons. Firstly, around his left leg, a combat knife, which was essentially the shrunken equivalent of a machete, sat in its protective sheath, ready to be drawn whenever the situation required it. But his abundance of weapons did not stop here. Strapped to the light-grey flak vest in small custom-made straps, next to the walkie-talkie that functioned as his comlink since he obstinately claimed it to be cool, were three Cornerian infantry-grenades.

These yellow well-rounded grenades used a small amount of explosive material and a large amount of complex energy-processes to function. After one had armed the device, one could always tell by looking at the various bluish-tinted panels embedded in the grenade just when it was about to run amok. When this was the case, the bluish tint would switch to an alarming crimson, and at that point, it would be best to throw it towards one's intended target. Along with his other arms, Shield considered these grenades to be an indispensable part of his combat equipment, particularly because of their large blast radius and damaging shockwave, which also eliminated the unfortunate side-effects of shrapnel flying around. Anything, which could blow someone or something up, and do it well, was an asset to the destruction-craving sergeant.

And it was indeed destruction that Mikki carried across his back in the form of a Cornerian homing rocket launcher, the orange tip of the primed projectile at the front of the weapon just showing over his left shoulder, like a strange and small head made of metal, which peeked curiously over the burly sergeant's frame. The rest of the devastating weapon was one giant firing-mechanism roughly in the form of a large, cylindrical tube, painted a vibrant red, with a considerable exhaust port at the end of it, in order to be able to handle the almost explosion-like firing of the rocket. The projectile was then guided towards its intended target by computer systems in its tip, activated by selecting the target through the small optical scope at the side of the body of the weapon. And the benefits of this indispensable weapon were twofold, according to Shield. Firstly, one should not worry about complex priming codes before firing; this process was simply executed by a firm squeeze of the trigger that was situated slightly at the back of the weapon's body. Secondly, and this was his favourite part, this behemoth of an explosive ordnance delivery system could surely dish out some damage; an attribute, which was of paramount importance to the sergeant in his search for proper weaponry. With a spare rocket dangling from a strap on his left hip, Mikki felt more than covered on the aspect of ammunition for the homing launcher, since he usually only broke out this extreme remedy when no other feasible measures were in sight.

However, Shield did not venture into battle without having a weapon other than his grenades, which could clear large, assaulting surges of hostiles from his path, and his fourth and final weapon, the Lylatian plasma Gatling-gun which had almost become an icon for the charismatic sergeant in the far-away solar system, filled that position admirably. Strapped to his right hip so that Mikki could easily get to the weapon and yank it free in times of need, the aquamarine harbinger of death almost resembled something like a very large earthly assault rifle, a machine-gun at best with its slim and wide barrel, sturdy body and long stock. This weapon was formidable in that it had a tremendous rate of fire for such a heavy weapon, and a large quantity of plasma energy to take from when it fired the large azure plasma bolts, which were indeed powerful for the wielder, but ominous to the enemy. Approximately three hundred plasma shots could be derived from the available energy. This energy was stored in the characteristic energy cell, which protruded visibly from the bottom of the weapon just in front of the trigger, adding to the thought of an earthly machine-gun one got when looking at the Lylatian contraption. Fox had been using exactly the same weapon during the Aparoid Invasion to sweep infested areas of the interstellar assimilating invaders, and now Shield had taken it up again for himself, having had the possibility several times to prove that the plasma Gatling-gun was worthy of its awesome reputation in the hands of one such as him, skilled with deadly fighting prowess.

If one were to do a comparison of the two individuals that walked side by side, one would presumably reach the conclusion that they could not be compared. And rightly so, for John's gear was as strikingly different from Mikki's as one could only imagine. Whereas Shield focused on being able to stoutly resist any attack that came his way, Saber was more interested in dealing with them flexibly and acrobatically, in a sense. Judging from his mission outfit, he was not as prepared to meet an assault head-on, but more the type of soldier who opted to approach the problem at an angle, and then strike like an angered hornet. First and foremost, the lieutenant was clad in a specially fabricated type of black, synthetic cloth, which fitted his body tightly. This had been manufactured to him by the Cornerian Army as a sort of protective battledress, which did not hinder him from using his preferred, lithe form of combat. The apparel that John donned atop this flexible battledress also suggested that he did not want to be slowed down by extra burdens. Consisting of nothing more than a standard grey t-shirt, a dusty-green battle-worn vest, standard grey military pants and -boots, and of course his trusty cap and the Cornerian comlink around his wrist, the lieutenant's encumbrance was light indeed when compared to that of his companion.

At his left side, easily available in its leather holster, Saber kept his custom-made blaster. This formidable weapon was, in any and all aspects, shaped like an old and antique revolver, even with the stock being made of polished Cornerian wood, much like the Single Action Army, but with the energy cell in place of the cartridge-chamber. These metallic energy cells, which rustled in one of the pockets in his pants as he walked, each held twelve shots and were rounded and smoothly cut, so that they were easy to click into place or pop out as needed. But when the slim and ancient-looking weapon was loaded, the laser bolts that issued forth from its long, shiny barrel were prodigiously powerful, both across a distance as well as at point-blank range.

But it was across his back that his primary weapon was situated in its sturdy leather sheath, which had the words "Saber: G-Wing Commando Unit" written upon it. This was the weapon, which had turned the tides of several battles, after the lieutenant had claimed it as a trophy from a defeated enemy during the Daytin-offensive a month and some weeks ago. This weapon was Ragetooth, John's trusty katana, which had come into his possession during the offensive since its original owner broke his first katana, the one that had been so carefully constructed by the Cornerian Army after his capable instructions. The lieutenant's knowledge about and fascination of medieval war-concepts allowed him to give precise instructions, which were followed to the letter by the responsible persons within the Army's research department. With the loss of this original weapon on Daytin, Saber had claimed Ragetooth for himself after he had defeated its wielder, content with the name, which the original owner of the weapon had given it. And the blade was truly a magnificent weapon, even considering the fact that its former wielder had been a demonic worshipper, who had attempted to open an extradimensional gate on Daytin to a demonic home-world. Naturally, the wielder of the blade had constructed the weapon in his image, and that explained the various enchantments and demonic or chaotic properties, which the sword held. Despite the rather unsettling presence of the dully glowing crimson runes from a demonic alphabet that were etched into the blade, Ragetooth was unquestionably imbued with several mystic properties.

To begin with, the edge of the weapon was always razor-sharp, no matter how many foes it had felled or how much material it had cut through. And this was another one of its properties; Ragetooth could cut through almost any material like a hot knife through butter. Even the most unyielding flak armour or iron plating was no match for the heavily enchanted sword. With all these properties, one could easily be led to believe that the runes engraved in the blade were just there for the purpose of fancy decoration. But then one would be greatly deceived, for the runes had their own function. The dull glow they emanated, which would sometimes flare to a blinding crimson light when Ragetooth sensed a fight in the near future or when it was hungering for blood, represented the obscure intelligence of the blade itself, the semi-awareness caused by the large concentration of mystic power, which helped guide the user's hand for the perfect strike with each swing, even if the wielder of the blade was not a professional swordsman. So with this weapon on his back, his blaster at his side and his undeniable deftness in melee combat, John was as well equipped as Mikki, ready to take on any adversary that might confront him.

The twosome strolled idly down the corridor, until they reached Jakob's room, where Shield knocked politely on the white door. Nobody answered, even despite their continuous knocking and shouting through the door when no response came immediately.

"What the hell do you think has happened to him, dude? Has he dozed off all of a sudden, even though there was a call for him?" Saber mumbled wonderingly to Shield, who just shrugged in reply and fund the exterior opening panel for the door, which every crewmember was allowed to use if the occupant of the room had not said otherwise. He flipped the small black switch right next to the door, and the white plate slid upwards with an audible hiss of compressed air, allowing them a glance inside their commander's abode through the hole that had suddenly appeared in the wall with the disappearance of the door.

Their superior and good friend was sitting with his eyes closed on the floor, cross-legged and with his hands resting on his knees. He was still clad in his dark grey battledress and black military boots. This militaristic apparel in a meditative context made him look like a very absurd version of a sci-fi worshipper of some unknown deity. The only sound that came out from the room was Jakob's steady breathing in regular intervals, at least proving that he was alive. And as the twosome examined the static form of their friend closer, they made a shocking revelation. In addition to his chest, which rose and fell slowly with each breath, his eyes were also moving slightly under his eyelids from time to time, even under the one with the vision intensifier over it.

"Whoa! This looks weird. John, check it out! What the heck is he doing?" Mikki asked John amazedly and in a low voice, but he got no answer other than a denying shake of the head from the lieutenant.

"I think he's… gone into a coma or something," Saber said flatly after having studied Ghost for some time, "He couldn't even hear us when we came in, even though we knocked and yelled as loud as we could, remember? But I don't think you should be worried. It just looks like he's sleeping while he's sitting up. He'll wake in some time, man! You'll see!" John said reassuringly to his friend, a convincing grin playing across his gaunt visage.

And it looked like the lieutenant could not have been more right in his statement, for practically as soon as he had uttered the last syllable, Jakob's eyes flew open, darting around the room for the shortest of moments before settling upon the newcomers in his doorway.

"Hey, guys!" he said briskly, albeit a bit hazily since he had just exited his meditative state. Upon seeing their expectant grins, however, he furrowed his brow slightly in confusion, "What's going on? Why are you smiling like that?" the commander asked bewilderedly.

"Oh, nothing's going on, J-man!" John said with an obviously fake note of tranquillity present in his remark, "Expect that you've apparently missed the call there was a few minutes ago about all Star Fox and G-Wing members. We should report to the bridge ASAP. But then we come to get you, and you're just snoring on the floor? What's going on with you, dude?" Saber asked wonderingly with Shield nodding energetically behind him, indicating that he would also like to know the answer to that intriguing conundrum.

"I was just meditating, hoping to subdue the pain of the bruise I've gotten at the back of my neck because of a little accident I had onboard The Valaria. And it helped, man, it really did; I can't feel it at all anymore. But since you've already loaded up, guys, I might as well do it, too, before we go. You're out early!" Ghost said appreciatively to his friends, bending down towards the floor to pick up his black leather gloves before putting them on, although he waited with the trenchcoat before all of his other armaments were in place.

"Oh, I see. And let me guess: Krystal made you meditate, right? She said that it would be good for you, and then you decided to give it a try. And it helped in regard to the pain, also? Hmm, it's good that it'll never be me, because that just looked plain weird and spooky. Besides, I never feel pain!" Mikki boasted jokingly.

"How did you ever guess, Shield? Yeah, you're one hundred percent correct. But then again, it's quite obvious, isn't it? I don't know a thing about what can be done in such a situation, except for shitloads of ice on the sore spot, and whenever someone suggests a mental solution, it's got to be Krystal!" Jakob grinned broadly across his shoulder before he turned his attention back to the armaments that lay on the shelf in front of him, just waiting to be picked up: Two blasters in a belt that should be strapped around his waist, and two small SMGs, each one in a holster to strap across the left and right leg respectively.

"Ah, my two trustworthy allies!" the commander said affectionately as he strapped the long leather belt around his waist, so that the blasters in their holsters rested by his sides. The blasters and SMGs had been loaded beforehand with fresh energy cells, separate ones for the blasters, and double ones for the SMGs. Because of this, the small energy gauges along the sides of the weapons were glowing an affirmative green, and would drop to yellow and red as the source of energy in the weapon was gradually depleted. The extra energy cells he always carried with him were already in place, sitting in special straps on the stomach-section of the belt. Four separate cells and one "click-magazine", two energy cells strapped together to form a double one, which fitted into one of his SMGs. Each of the energy cells held ninety shots in total, so Jakob had plenty to fire before he was forced to reload. He could reload each blaster twice and only one SMG once with the spare energy cells in his possession, but 180 shots sprayed rapidly from both SMGs were more than enough to take care of every hostile when the situation required the use of extreme measures.

When Ghost had strapped the belt in place, he quickly drew his custom-made blasters from their holsters and examined them thoroughly, their shiny chrome shimmering in the light of the rays from Solar that came through the window. If one should describe them, they would be most appropriately characterized as advanced copies of ordinary .45s from Earth, their square, angular shape being almost identical without having the slightly triangular main body that all Lylatian blasters seemed to possess. The same was the case with his chrome-coated SMGs, almost resembling perfect replicas of their earthly twin, the MP5, only these Lylatian ones were much smaller and more conveniently sized, so that they could each be held with one hand and swung around with a great degree of mobility. Even the energy cells had been made to look almost like ordinary magazines for bullets, so close were the parallels between earthly weapons and these lethal, extraterrestrial constructs. They had been made according to Jakob's specifications when the three human friends first came to Lylat seven months ago, and it seemed that the Lylatian researchers had done a good job of it. Furthermore, what was so special about these weapons were that they, along with John's blaster, did not fire laser beams of any particular colour, as it was normally seen in various sci-fi movies on Earth. These custom-made weapons simply fired vibrant, incandescent bolts of pure, unfiltered energy.

Having eyed his blasters reminiscently for some time, Ghost abruptly twirled them around his gloved fingers a couple of times as he swiftly put them back in their holsters; this was a move he had practised intensively ever since he came to Lylat, and he felt like he was getting the hang of it. Going over the rest of the procedure swiftly, the commander strapped his SMGs in place in their holsters around his thighs, before finally placing his combat knife with the metallic blade and the black sheath at the backside of the belt, which ran around his waist. This little secondary weapon had proved to be a great asset to him in many a CQC-confrontation, and when used in conjunction with his blaster, held under its butt with one hand as he snuck forwards on missions, it gave him the ability to switch instantly between ranged and melee combat, since he practically had both weapons handy.

Lastly, Jakob retrieved his black leather trenchcoat from the floor, shook it a couple of times to get it straight and then quickly slipped it on, not bothering with tightening the straps and metal buckles on the front since he never did, anyway, "There. How do I look?" he asked with a mirthful grin, turning to face Mikki and John in the doorway, straightening up the collar of his coat as he swirled around.

Shield was rather strained in his praising of Ghost's outfit; since all he did was to give his friend two encouraging thumbs up, smile wryly and mutter, "Cool, cool!" Saber, on the other hand, formulated a slightly provoking response as it was almost always the case with him.

Leaning forwards slightly, as if to really appraise the commander's garments, the lieutenant sniggered after some time before he finally responded, "Like a big-ass cape-man, and that's all I'll say on that! Now c'mon, let's get moving! They're waiting for us on the bridge," John said, a haughty glint being present in his grey eyes and the tiniest hint of a joking smile flickering across his face as he strode out of Ghost's room. Silently shaking their heads in wonderment as they went behind him towards the bridge of the Great Fox, Jakob and Mikki told each other in this silent fashion that they were equally as perplexed about that strange exclamation from Saber, but dismissed it not long after as the workings of his slightly impatient and devil-may-care mind.

On their way there, much to the others' surprise, Ghost suddenly yanked one of his blasters free from its holster, seemingly on a whim, unsheathed his combat knife with the other hand and began to etch an image into the shining chrome, the metal creaking and almost screaming at an extremely high pitch as the blade of the knife was forcibly pressed into the soft chrome. This antagonising howl proved to be too much for one of the G-Wing members to cope with in the end as Saber resolutely turned his head around and looked back over his shoulder after some time, staring daggers at his friend.

"Oh my God, Ghost, couldn't you cut it out, whatever it is you're doing. My eardrums are almost tearing themselves apart, man! What the hell are you doing, anyway?" the lieutenant asked irritably, being momentarily granted peace to his weary ears as Jakob blew away the metallic chips that had accumulated on the weapon, stuck the blaster in its holster and pulled the other one out.

"Monogramming my guns," the commander mumbled absently in reply before he resumed his cutting, this time on a new weapon which screeched just the same, "It's never too late for a personal touch. Besides, then I'll always be able to recognize them in the chaos of war, just like you have the runes on Ragetooth." Several minutes passed with the insane howling of metal being cut out of shape, before Ghost stuck his SMGs in their holsters and sheathed his knife, now that all of his guns had been treated the same way, "Here", he said, handing a blaster to Mikki and John respectively, "check it out! I've also done the same to my SMGs,"

His two friends looked on curiously. On the side of the blaster, next to a hastily engraved Star Fox-insignia, there was carved a large "G" with a much smaller "J" inside of it. It did not take long for Shield to realise the rather obvious meaning of this monogram, "Alright, let's see… J for Jakob, obviously, and G for Ghost?" the sergeant asked interrogatively.

"Or for G-Wing. I'll leave that up to the viewer's best judgement!" Ghost said smugly, earning himself yet another harsh glance from Saber. In his mind, Jakob began to think about what could possibly be bothering him, having never seen this high a concentration of obvious animosity from the lieutenant, but John voiced the nagging worry for him.

"Right. Yeah, it's all well and good about your guns, but when you go as far as to call them your "trustworthy allies", I can't really see any reason for me and Mikki to stick around. There's obviously no need for you to think about your other friends in this. You've got your guns and clothes, so then everything else is just fine, isn't it, Ghost?" the lieutenant said scathingly, spitting out the code-name as if it were a lethal toxin or a disease that just had to be purged from his body, stringing it out to the brink of the absurd as he glowered menacingly at Jakob. And in an instant, the commander knew what his friend's newest gripe was. He did admit to being a little complacent at times, but when looking at the big picture, there was nothing as important in this world as his friends, no matter where in the known universe that this world might be. And he would convince Saber about this, he decided.

"Hey!" Jakob bit back at John angrily and suddenly, "I was never trying to elevate the status or significance of my weapons above the immense importance it has for my peace of mind to know that both of you are safe and are doing well, both in body and mind! Saying that my guns were my allies was just a way of saying that they have never jammed on me, disappeared from me or failed me when I needed their help… just like you two!" the commander said softly and gently, his voice losing its unbearably sharp edge of acrimonious and bitter anger as he continued to speak, his eyes returning to being their normal, calm self.

"As far as I recall, I've never stated that machines and metal are beyond the truly noble gift of friendship, which one can obtain when dealing with individuals of flesh and blood. And it'll be a cold day in Hell before I say that, John, that's for sure. When the two greatest gifts of friendship in the known universe have been bestowed upon me by meeting the two of you, I'll never state such a preposterous claim. You can bet your life on that!" Ghost finished respectfully.

As he had concluded his little morale speech, the group had almost traversed the entire distance through the corridors of the Great Fox that they needed to, but they were still a few paces away from the door to the bridge. But Saber used these few paces to reach out behind him, expecting a high five, and look at Jakob with a truly apologetic expression on his face, having realized the absurdness of his inexplicable fit of pique just before, "Thanks, J-man," he whispered feebly, "That was all I needed to know!"

"Not a problem, Saber!" the young commander beamed at his friend before returning the high five along with retrieving his blasters from his companions, just as the threesome were about to walk through the door, "Not a problem!"

---

What caught Ghost's eye just as the door to the bridge slid open for the three commandos thumping in, completely armed to the teeth, was the lissom figure of Krystal. The cerulean vixen stood next to her seat and awaited the coming of Team G-Wing, just like every other member of Team Star Fox, but instead of looking expectantly at them when they entered, her gaze was fixated on the floor, almost as if she were shameful or embarrassed. As the commander narrowed his eyes to get a better look, he though he saw the ghost of a smile play across her muzzle. And he also thought he knew why.

"Were you prying into my mind just before when I meditated, Krys? You'd better not be spying on me now, because I find that rather unsettling! I did get the strange feeling of being watched inside my own head, you know. And I thought I saw a cerulean figure flee from my mind when my psyche looked around for any signs of intrusion. I know only one cerulean being on this ship, and this being is coincidentally capable of telepathy. Come on, Krystal, you might as well confess!" Jakob grinned, feeling that he clearly stood in a position where he could extract information from her about this matter and confront her directly, without having to go through the misleading wordplay of equivocation.

Krystal stood immobilized for some time before she finally levelled her gaze at him, an apologetic glint being present in her eyes, "Alright, I did look into your mind," she admitted shamefully, "But I didn't do it to unveil sensitive information or something like that. I would just like to see how you were faring inside your own head, since it's practically the first time that you've been there consciously. I trust it helped? The meditation, that is?" she asked him interrogatively, obviously wanting to know if her advice had been any good.

In reply to this softly spoken query from the young vixen, Ghost simply turned around, pointing to the bruise at the back of her neck, "Actually, that meditation just went fast, and with good results to boot. It's as if this bruise doesn't exist anymore. I can't feel it at all. So I would say that the meditation has definitely helped, except when it comes to perceiving messages over the intercom in the middle of a trance!" he exclaimed happily, before turning his attention towards the holo-screen as he took his seat along with his friends. For this extraordinary meeting, a split-function had been introduced on the holo-screen, so that the images of both General Pepper and Kyra Hawthorne were present. The arctic vixen looked expectantly at the gathering before her, but was polite enough not to share her marvellous discovery with any of the individuals before Pepper had officially started the session. And he did so by clearing his throat audibly.

."Now that we're all here, I think we can begin this briefing session. I was contacted not so long ago by Ensign Hawthorne, who is also with me on the line here. She has apparently found the location of the alien cruiser's point of origin, but something seems to be amiss. I think it's best if she explains it herself. Ensign, if you would," the canine general urged politely, giving the word to Kyra, who did not waste a moment of precious time before elaborating on this rather ominous introduction that Pepper had given.

"Thank you, sir. As you're probably all well aware, I was ordered by Commander Jakob to conduct an investigation about the route this alien ship had taken when it fled. Well, I've analyzed its ion-trail very carefully, bit by bit, but I keep ending up at the same spot. I've checked and double-checked the ion-readouts and other results, but I can't seem to get anywhere near something plausible, something realistic… "

All of a sudden in the midst of the flowing explanation of her process, Kyra abruptly fell silent. It was as if she would spare her listeners for the words she was now about to utter, thinking it might hurt the impression of her professionalism, which they had just gotten. However, she stoutly dismissed these worries from her mind, deeming them to be nothing more than the aftershock of bafflement about her discovery, before Kyra continued her tale of science, "Despite all of the different tests I ran, all the different results were conclusive, and I kept ending up with the same coordinates, although it doesn't seem right in the least. For you see…" she hesitated slightly once more before voicing her unbelievable conclusion, "… there's nothing there!"

Kyra's unfathomable exclamation was met by a wall of dubious silence. Nobody dared to speak or to comment on the problem because they all believed it to be quite unthinkable, seeing as how the arctic vixen had justly explained her persistence even in the face of such vexing enigmas of science as she was dealing with. When this silence had continued unabated for some time, Kyra let out an almost inaudible sigh, taking the silence from the teams as a sign of their immense incredulity towards the matter, before she deftly pressed some buttons at the control panel she was sitting behind, "Look, maybe it'd be easier for you to understand if I showed it to you on a star map… "

The images of the arctic vixen and General Pepper disappeared from the holo-screen, to be replaced with a star map of the Lylat System. Even though their images were not present, Pepper and Kyra could still communicate via audio, and they all saw the same picture, which was being transmitted. On the star map, which had just appeared, a red line began to draw itself through the void, dividing it like a sort of interstellar iron curtain. It originated exactly on the spot between Corneria and Katina where the battle against The Venomian Remnant had been fought, and then slowly began to creep across the map like an ominous serpent, slipping through the gap between Corneria and Sector Y, the infamous nebula with its sickeningly green and eerie luminescence, before it abruptly stopped in what could be considered a completely desolate cluster of stars some distance away from Sector Y and a fair distance from Corneria, signifying the end of the ion-trail, which had been emitted by the alien vessel.

After having displayed this result for some time, the star map shrank to a conveniently small size as it positioned itself in one of the corners of the holo-screen, giving way for the images of Kyra and Pepper to return. The canine general looked at the teams, which were gathered on the bridge, a distinct sepulchral note of hopelessness reverberating in his hoarse voice as he commented the newly made discovery – if "discovery" was indeed the right term to use, "Well, Star Fox and G-Wing, you can probably understand the reason for why I would like to call all of you up to the bridge ASAP. My technicians and scientists have begun working on the measurements and readouts, which Ensign Hawthorne used in her analysis, but so far, the results have only proved to match; we keep ending up in the same sector. A couple of explanations do exist for this very strange result: Either, there's something we've overlooked, or we might have to realize that we've lost the trail of these aliens. If this is the case, the only thing we can do is hope and prey that they will never strike again. Fox, does your team have any ideas for what could be wrong?" Pepper asked the golden-furred vulpine mercenary.

Upon casting his gaze searchingly around on the bridge, allowing it to rest on each of his crewmembers, Fox could only answer negatively to the general's question, seeing as all he saw were vacant, dull and uncomprehending stares, denying shrugs and hopeless gestures, even from Peppy and Slippy, whom he thought to be pretty qualified when it came to abnormal occurrences in space, just like this one, "No, unfortunately not, sir. They're without a clue, completely puzzled as you can see, and so am I. This is the weirdest thing that I've ever seen in my entire career. But perhaps", the vulpine mused, smiling slightly with unspoken anticipation, "G-Wing can help us? These guys have proved their human resourcefulness time and time again, and I wouldn't be surprised if they could do it again! What do you say, guys? Does anything ring a bell here?" Fox asked enquiringly, turning his and the others' attention to the three humans at the back of the bridge.

Neither of them moved, and neither of them spoke. They just sat completely still, undoubtedly thinking their hardest to at least come up with some form of plausible theory. But whereas John and Jakob were just staring blankly and vacantly into space, seemingly devoid of any process of thought, Mikki's facial expression changed constantly, as if he were mulling all sorts of ideas around in his head, trying to get them to match with the facts. And when he finally spoke and broke the all-consuming silence, which had ensnared the bridge like an asphyxiating form of isolation, his tone of voice was also quite clear but yet contemplative, his mind racing feverishly within his head as he tested his newest speculation.

"Say, Fox… or anyone else, for that matter: Could you show me that star map again?" the sergeant asked, feeling that he had noticed something quite unusual as the image had been displayed. Peppy nodded in affirmation to Shield before pressing a button on the control panel of the Great Fox, causing the map to pop up again from its retracted position, the path of the ion-trail still blinking an undeniable and slightly provocative red, almost as if it were trying to say, "Here I am. But you can't find out why I look like I do. Too bad for you, suckers!"

"Right. Could you then zoom in on the sector where the trail ends, Peppy?" Mikki asked again, causing the elderly hare to press yet another button, which made that specifically designated segment of the map swell up, so it eventually replaced the entire map. The end of the ion-trail was exactly in the middle of a cluster of relatively small stars, showing the contradiction of there being something amidst this sterile void. But the way the stars were grouped in this particular segment of space, not to mention their forming a cluster if there was nothing to form up about, made a bell ring deep down in Shield's cerebrum. However, the vast mists of accumulated experience and miscellaneous thoughts that were drifting idly around the top of his mind kept him from hearing this sonorous knell of his subconscious clearly. He had seen this somewhere before, he knew, but he could just not remember exactly where. But as he was determinedly fighting his elusive mind, brushing away the cobwebs of garbled thoughts, the sound of understanding could finally be heard rising up towards his conscious self from the uncertain depths of his cerebrum. And in an instant, Mikki knew where he had seen an occurrence exactly like this one.

"Of course!" he muttered amazedly before nudging Jakob in the side, "Ghost, look at that star map, man! There's got to be a planet there. This is "Episode Two" all over again, dude!" the sergeant grinned wryly, finally knowing what the Lylatian star map had been reminiscent of.

The commander looked to his friend in astonishment as he heard this strange comparison, before he tested it by eyeing the star map intently, "Hmm… yeah, you're actually right, Shield! And the astronomical facts fit, too, I think!" he said energetically as he continued gazing at the holo-screen, falling back on his amateur studying of and interest in astronomy.

"Now, let's see: Stars of a relatively small density forming a cluster… luminous intensity varying by approximately three magnitudes, perhaps suggesting a drain of their mass by some unknown and invisible source… supposed planetary gravity being the centre of the occurrence, even though no planet is present… the end of the ion-trail just there in the middle of the stars affected by this spherical gravitation…" he mused aloud, trying to estimate the astronomical workings which were involved, before he finally inclined his head slightly in acquiescence and chuckled softly, "I agree with you, Mikki. Whatever's hiding in that star-cluster has got to be a planet; even though we can't see it, we can almost read it from the space around it. Thank you, Episode Two!" Ghost grinned broadly, rather taken aback by the fact that a simple scene from a famous sci-fi movie back on Earth was to be the source of a major breakthrough in an intriguing Lylatian astronomical riddle.

Understandably, the gathered Lylatians, having never heard of this before, eyed their human allies quizzically, before Pepper decided to speak up, "Episode Two, you say. What's that? Some kind of military project on Earth?" the canine general asked incredulously, very much doubting that the young humans had access to classified military information.

In reply to this, John could not hold back his laughter, baffled as he was about the seriousness of Pepper's thoughts. He had also seen the comical parallel when it was brought up since he knew of the movie as well, and Saber found it utterly strange that Pepper would assume their involvement in military projects. On the other hand, the lieutenant thought, it would not do much good to try and elaborate on the concept of movies, since it would be something totally alien to the Cornerians, so he did the only thing he could do, which seemed reasonable. He simply urged them to let it slip

"Hey, sir, easy on the assumptions there! I can say to you that it isn't something military, so you don't have to worry about that, but if I should explain to you what it really is, you'd be sleeping in one minute, I'm sure. It's something we use for entertainment, like you use holograms here, but I won't go further into it, simply for the sake of saving you all the boring details. In conclusion, it's an Earth-thing!" John said slyly, leaning back in his seat with a confident grin playing across his face.

The bridge was once again completely silent after this rant, puzzled and fascinated as the Lylatians were by the untraditional and skilful thinking of the three humans. It had never occurred to them to analyze the information as Team G-Wing had just done, simply because this "missing planet-phenomenon" was something completely new and mind-boggling to them. To reach the same conclusion, it would have taken the Lylatians immeasurable amounts of time and careful studying, but they just had to realize that humans could indeed be of rapier wit when confronted by astronomical conundrums as well as other immense difficulties. They had many useful experiences to fall back on from their home planet, experiences which the Lylatians did not have.

"So… what you're saying is that there's actually a planet there, even despite the fact that we can't see it?" Krystal asked Team G-Wing tentatively, her softly spoken query punctuating the idle stillness which had persisted on the bridge, a note of obvious wonderment showing faintly in her remark.

"Yep, you got it right, Krys; that's what we're saying. Of course you haven't seen the thing we're talking about, but it's about this guy who's very puzzled about not being able to find the planet he wants to find on the star map, even though he knows that he's got the right coordinates. But after some advice from his friends, he decides to travel to the sector anyway. He has seen the same thing on the star map as we're seeing now, and when he arrives at the sector… Bang! He almost crashes into the planet, which has been there all along. So you see, it can happen!" Mikki smiled enthusiastically, fully aware of the fact that he was exaggerating a bit when it came to finding the planet. _"But if you exaggerate, it's sometimes easier to understand things!"_ he thought to himself.

"Nicely said, Shield! Allow me to elucidate," Jakob said politely, giving his friend an appreciative "thumbs up" before eyeing the Lylatians present both on the Great Fox and on the holo-screen, "We've seen a scenario like this before in the "Episode Two", of which we speak. This scenario presents the possibility that information about the whereabouts of this planet – its presence still being merely hypothetical, of course – has been erased from your star maps by someone on the inside. So this could be a reason for why it can't be seen on the map. However, given the circumstances and some of the astronomical factors that are present here, I don't think that this is the case. By simply ratiocinating and considering the various facts, I've thought of an alternative hypothesis that might account for some of these otherwise inexplicable irregularities."

The eloquent commander turned his head slightly, so that his gaze was now centred on the holo-screen, "Did any of you try and scan the sector as soon as you had gotten the coordinates?" he asked interrogatively, opting to test his newly minted theory by hearing them out about their results. He was answered by a brief nod from Pepper before the canine general spoke up.

"Yes, we did here at Corneria. Our Intergalactic Research Agency was fortunate enough to have a satellite with long-distance scanners in the area. But when we tried to scan that sector, we found that we couldn't see a thing. We were blocked out by some kind of gravitational anomaly, so we've never been able to determine if there's really something there," Pepper said a bit sadly, obviously displeased about the failure of his agency. But to his surprise, Ghost's face split into a wide smile of relief as soon as he had said the last word. Furrowing his brow slightly in confusion, Pepper looked at the commander enquiringly in search of an answer. And he got one as Jakob started to reel off his theory.

"Good, good. Then I'm much calmer. And I can also tell you all with some degree of certainty that there is a planet there, albeit one with a seriously abnormal gravity well and an elemental composition, which is totally screwed up. I deduced this by comparing what Shield so rightly said about the grouping of the stars to the stars themselves and your information, sir. The stars formed this peculiar cluster, very much akin to one which is found around a planet, since the stars are all affected by the gravity coming from the planet.

"Now, on top of that, I noticed that the stars, albeit small, had a luminosity, which varied by as much as up to three magnitudes. It may not sound like much, but that's actually a big leap. Considering that they're probably of the same age, and thus that their masses are approximately equivalent, the only explanation I can think of is that some kind of celestial body, for example a planet, with an immense gravity must be present in the midst of this cluster, slowly draining the mass out of the stars, thus weakening their luminosity. And finally, Pepper told me that his scanners had been blocked out by a gravitational anomaly. Now, can you tell me which gravitational anomaly affects the surrounding stars like a planet with an above average gravity, even going as far as to block out scanner signals, if it isn't indeed such a planet?" Ghost finished triumphantly, a wide smile of exhaustion, but also happiness about having sorted out this mystery, showing on his slightly aquiline visage.

The general did not have to contemplate the loquacious commander's words for long before he could easily see the logic in them. With so many astronomical signs, there could be no doubt that this seemingly desolate cluster of stars housed a planet, and that the alien attackers had fled to this safe haven, thus eliminating the possibility of their attack on the Cornerian fleet being a coincidental act. Now, they had their location and they had their culprits, and as such, Pepper could not find any reason as to why the Cornerian Army should not act immediately. With conviction ringing in his voice, the canine general announced his next step in the conflict, "I can see what you mean, all of you. With all this evidence, there's no doubt that the aliens must have their base, or rather home world, in this cluster. I propose that we move out to this quadrant and send the fleet from three sides, so we can pin any defence forces that might be waiting for us."

This idea, however, was met with audible protests from Saber as soon as it had been suggested. The lieutenant had remained quite passive during this entire affair of solving the interstellar mystery, but as he heard this rather hasty plan from the general, his instinctive alarms began to blare sonorously within his mind, quickly realizing the large margin of risk, which was present in this plan. With a slightly condescending note present in his remark, John forcefully expressed his dissatisfaction with the strategy, "Excuse me, sir, but that just isn't smart. I mean, you of all people should be able to realize that. For all you know, since you can't see the planet or track their movements further, they could've retreated to the surface of the planet with some huge plasma cannons, and they'd be able to pop you right out of the sky, while you stood around with your fleet and let it happen.

"Hey, if it was me who should invade a world I couldn't even see at all, I would start by jumping to it through hyperspace… hoping and praying, of course, that I wouldn't smash straight into their fleet when I came out!" Saber grinned wryly before continuing, "Then, I'd run a scan of the planet and find out what was really down there, so that I knew what I was dealing with. And then, and only then would I decide what forces I should use. Heck, if it was me, I'd probably send both a fleet, an armoured division and a contingent of marines behind enemy lines, just to be sure!" the lieutenant beamed, obviously content about his perfect battle strategy.

The canine general looked in utter awe and astonishment at the cap-wearing John, fully convinced that a first-class brain was working behind that cap, but he did not even have time to comment on the proposed strategy before Jakob gave his friend some backing up in regard to his strategy. The eloquent commander had found Saber's arguments quite reasonable – in fact he would have done the same thing himself – and as such decided to voice his opinion on the matter, now that he agreed so heartily with John, his distinctive British accent showing audibly in his speech like it always did when he spoke for a long time.

"Since we're already about to head directly into something completely unknown, for which we might be punished later, I admit that I thought it prudent to err on the side of caution, sir. If one should indeed err, then let it be about the time used to conceive a reasonable plan, and not about the lives sacrificed because of a plan with many flaws and lacunae. And apparently, Saber thought so, too. I must say that I applaud his way of laying out the mission. Spreading across multiple fronts, both on land and in space, is an effective way to throw any stratagem, which the enemy might have conceived, into disarray. I agree fully with John's approach, sir… unless, of course, you have a better alternative to your current plan," Ghost said firmly, letting there be no doubt left with any of the listeners that his primary support lay with Saber.

Pepper was just about to say something rash about Team G-Wing practically laying his plans for him, when the obvious benefits about the strategy that John had just presented hit his cerebrum like a massive sledgehammer, shaking his mind and reshaping the entire strategic view of the mission that he had slowly built up within his head.

Inwardly cursing himself for his persistent, but unfortunately incorrigible, reluctance to accept ideas from the outside, the canine general soon found himself nodding in hesitant acquiescence, convinced as he was by the eloquent human commander, "Very well, then. I'll send a call for a carrier with an armoured division of Landmasters, a Marine squad transport, The Valaria and a heavy-class cruiser to meet up with the Great Fox in half an hour. When this task force is assembled, you will jump out to the sector, make contact with the planet and its inhabitants, and discover if they are indeed hostile. If this proves to be the case, I want their operation shut down… no matter what the cost. I will not allow Corneria to become a target for the wrath of some megalomaniacal aliens yet again, so we might as well quell their intentions as early as possible."

Pepper paused for a moment, letting this statement sink into the heads of the soldiers that were present, before his eyes settled upon Team G-Wing, "And this brings me to the reason why you should stay a little longer. In order for this offensive to work out satisfactorily, I think the Cornerian Army is in for a certain change of leadership!" the general said, smiling contently as he saw the reaction, which occurred almost simultaneously from the three humans. They automatically stiffened in their seats, listening expectantly since they obviously understood that whatever Pepper was planning had something to do with them.

Calmly stating his musings about the subject, the general continued amiably, "Commander, since your stay on The Valaria proved to work out so well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind more forces to command. That's why I'm sending the other cruiser, The Monolith, with you on this attack run. Commander Jakob, I hereby appoint you to commanding officer of the Cornerian fleet-division during our assault on the aliens. Both The Valaria and The Monolith will be under your direct command. Of course, the Great Fox will still operate independently, like it always has."

After Pepper had ended this rather solemn statement, he let his gaze rest upon Ghost, who stared back at him in blank amazement, his jaw almost dropping upon hearing that the responsibility of coordinating the fleet would be left in his hands. Finally, he summoned the willpower to speak up, albeit still pretty hesitantly because of sheer amazement, "I… I don't know what to say about this, but… Thank you, sir! Thank you very much for the honour! You can rest assured that I'll do my utmost not to fail. I give you my word of honour from one officer to another," he said solemnly, a smile finding his way across his baffled features as he saluted the general in gratitude.

"No problem, Ghost. You've earned it," Pepper replied merrily before turning serious yet again, this time fixating his gaze upon Shield, "Now, moving on. Sergeant, as you're probably well aware, soldiers of exceptional courage and uncommon merit are not easily found. But I believe that we've found the incarnation of such attributes in a solar system far from our own when we chose to bring you in. And you've also got a quite well-functioning mind to boot, so I can see no reason for why you shouldn't be fit for the position I have in mind for you. Sergeant Mikki, you are hereby appointed to commanding officer of the Cornerian armoured division, although you haven't yet reached officer rank, because of your… ahem… rather stubborn denials of promotion when you're actually fit for them. But you're certainly fit for this position, so make the most of it," the general urged him.

And the reaction that came from Shield just proved the fact that minds do indeed differ from person to person, for he broke out into a wide grin of contentment instead of the flabbergasted demeanour that had conquered Jakob, "Yeah! Thank you so much, sir! I promise you, when my squads of Landmasters and I are done crawling through the landscape, there'll be nothing left of those scumbags but burning debris and dust in the wind!" the sergeant grinned charismatically, only making Pepper grin back in return, before the canine general let his gaze settle upon the last member of Team G-Wing, who had not yet been appointed to a specific position. John shifted expectantly in his seat, calmly waiting for Pepper to begin his little speech.

"Lieutenant, many of the other members of the Cornerian top brass would perhaps disagree with the decision I've made recently. They would perhaps claim that your rashness puts you in some unwanted danger that could otherwise be avoided. But I say no. When you're a marine in the Cornerian Army, it's all about being rash and quick, being able to adapt to dangers and threats as they come. You've proved your mettle countless times in various conflicts, proved that you do possess courage and determination. And that's why I've estimated that our current contingent of marines could surely use a bit of pepping up, an energy which I'm sure your presence will provide. Lieutenant John, you're hereby appointed to commanding officer of the marine-contingent, which is to be dropped behind enemy lines on the alien planet with the hope of neutralizing the enemy from within while he's pressed on other fronts. Set an example for my marines and show them just how it should be done!" the general exclaimed energetically.

In reply to this charismatic utterance, Saber merely grinned vaguely and raised a hand slowly to his cap in recognition of the newly appointed position, "Hey, whatever you say, sir. I'm fresh! And marine-duty does sound like a lot of fun, sneaking up on the enemy from behind and owning their butts! Heck, if I can't do it, who can?" he said self-righteously, donning a big smirk on his face.

Happily realizing that all had worked out as he wanted it to, with Team G-Wing accepting the positions he had thought for them to fill, Pepper nodded determinedly, "Good, then all is as I expected. You may as well start walking down to your hangar, because your ships will be present in your quadrant in approximately twenty-five minutes. So I suggest that you say what needs to be said before you go your separate ways. I realize that it may take a while before I receive your report – even going as far as a couple of days – with all the different offensives going on, but as soon as you've quelled this uprising, I would like you to return to Corneria and share with me all the information, which you've found. I have full confidence in your skills and devotion to this assignment, so I don't expect you to fail. Good luck, teams!" the canine general said warmly, before his face disappeared from the holo-screen, leaving the usual trail of static, which Slippy dismissed at the deft touch of a button.

---

"I'll tell you one thing: I'm going to lay the hurt on those alien scumbags! If they think they're getting away with attacking the Cornerians while I'm there to see it, they'd better start thinking again!" Mikki stated forcefully as the teams strolled through the corridors of the Great Fox and towards the hangar. After Pepper had signed off from Corneria, both teams had decided that they might as well follow his advice and prepare themselves in the hangar. So that was where they were going now.

As he heard this, John narrowed his eyes and looked at Shield queerly, "What? You, all by yourself? Aren't you forgetting that entire squad of Landmasters, which will be sent down with you to back you up? Heh, if I were you, I wouldn't take all the credit for myself, rocket-man!" the lieutenant smirked before continuing, "Besides, I'll be doing a lot more honest killing than you. At least I get to come close to my opponent, look him in the eye and make it personal. You'll just be sitting there in your little tin can with cannon, lobbing plasma-shells at your enemy. That's not a way to kill, dude!" Saber said condescendingly, provoking a fervent response from the sergeant.

Watching his two friends with a mild smile of wonderment on his lips, Jakob kept himself a few paces behind Mikki and John, who made up the front of the group, with the Star Fox Team bringing up the rear. He was actually just about to take part in the discussion himself when someone nudged him softly in his right side. Ghost instantly snapped his head around to see who it was, but calmed down again when he saw the happily grinning vulpine visage of Krystal next to his own. And just as it was the case whenever she smiled at him, the commander could not resist the urge to smile back.

"Hey, Jakob!" the cerulean vixen beamed merrily, "So, this is it, huh? The direct command of two cruisers at the same time. I can't say that I envy you!" she grinned, obviously content with sticking with Fox and the others, before continuing in a slightly more low tone of voice, "But this also seems like Team G-Wing is split apart now, with all of you being assigned to different fronts. I think it's a pity, actually, because the three of you suit each other very nicely," the young Cerinian complimented him and his friends softly.

Just before he was about to say something in return, two occurrences intruded upon the equilibrium of Jakob's mind, forcing him to take them into consideration. The first was how he had parted ways with Krystal after Reevo's onslaught on Corneria, terminating the partnership, which had existed between them for so long in the field, entirely of his own volition. The second was how the cerulean vixen had come to seek his advice on her conviction of victory just before the battle with the Venomians this day. Ghost quickly mulled these thoughts about in his head before using them to construct an adequate reply to Krystal's compliment. Looking her convincingly in the eye, the commander started to speak, sincerity emanating from every syllable of his remark.

"Yeah, we do indeed fit well together, and quite frankly, I also hate this unwanted separation. It's like it's brutally severing the connection between Mikki, John and me. Really, that's how I feel about it. But alas, it's unfortunately customary to remain acquiescent in the face of higher authorities, so I see no gain from objecting to it in front of Pepper, only the disadvantage of being labelled as insubordinate. However, there's also a good side to it. I won't have to worry about them dying if I didn't look out for them, and their demise would thus be my mistake. If you try and think back, Krystal, it's the same thing that happened between you and me a month ago, when I told you that I could handle myself on my own. I wanted to eliminate the stressing factor that your death could perhaps be caused by an act of carelessness from my side. I didn't want your destiny to be clouded and uncertain because of the presence of my frail being."

At this point of his monologue, Jakob had unwittingly lowered his tone of voice to a slightly more dark and brooding one than he initially started out with, but he became aware of this sudden shift in pitch and started to talk lighter and merrier, as not to make Krystal's mind even more heavy with anxiety than necessary, "So you see, it can be beneficial for the individuals involved in a team to be separated at various occasions. But I certainly don't think that the contact between these individuals should cease because of this separation, either, just like it hasn't done between me and the guys. Or you and me, for that matter. When you came to me and sought my advice before we were to battle the Venomians, I felt it as if we were working together again. By the way, how do you feel now, Krys?" he enquired, looking searchingly at the young vixen before him. Seeing as the teams were yet again about to head into a fierce confrontation, he wanted to make absolutely sure that nothing bothered his friend's mind like before, and if it did, that he could prevent it from evolving any further.

To this sudden question, Krystal replied instantaneously and unwaveringly, clearly letting Ghost understand that there was not the least bit of obscuring doubt present in her mind before this battle. Her conviction was clear and determined, and hence she could give him this steadfast reply, "I feel fine. I know that we can win this, no matter how many times the enemy outnumbers us. And I know it because I believe it to be so. Namely because we're facing such a relentless opponent this time, the only thing we can do is believe in a victory against these insane odds, and hope that we can overcome them with the strength of our morale and zeal. This may not seem logic in a strictly militaristic context, but as you told me some time ago: "Belief is beyond how or why. Belief is beyond reason"."

As she had concluded the elaboration of her mental and partially physical condition, Krystal looked insistently at her friend, an expectant smile playing across her muzzle. She had actually created peace in her own mind by using the philosophy he had told her about and taught her before the Venomian battle. It had truly helped, and it seemed like Jakob was fully aware of that, for as he heard her utter the last phrase, his face split into a wide smile of happiness on Krystal's behalf. But before he had the chance to voice his appreciation of her new mentality, the cerulean Cerinian interrupted him. Krystal remembered the oath of protection that she had so solemnly sworn to herself when G-Wing had arrived, and hence she felt the need to assure Jakob that her being protective towards him had not diminished in the least, despite the sudden termination of their cooperation

"Look, I fully understand what you're saying about the teams benefiting from separation, and that's how I consider us at the moment, Ghost. Like a capable military duo of individuals that fit well with each other, currently taking some time off, only to return with full power. I know it was you who wanted to terminate our cooperation for my safety and comfort, and I respect that, but before we go our separate ways in this battle, I just want you to know that should you somehow find yourself in the field, there's nothing I won't do to ensure your safety, just like we always did before you guys went home a month ago. Plus, if you need a shoulder to cry on or somebody to talk to, I'm always here for you. Just remember that, okay?" Krystal asked him softly, eyeing him with considerable concern.

As he heard her utter those words, Jakob could not help but smile reminiscently. The friendship, which had quickly blossomed between him and the cerulean vixen ever since they were assigned to missions together, had resulted in an extreme feeling of devotion from each of them towards the other, and this was unquestionably what was shining through in Krystal's softly spoken urge to her human friend. As Team G-Wing's first stay in Lylat progressed, after the young humans had been put through the intense training in the skills they needed to survive in their new profession as trained soldiers - changed as they were from being merely ordinary earthly students with a knack for gaming; hence the name "G-Wing" which stood for Gamer's Wing - it soon became a common sight to find Ghost and Krystal, this peculiar pair, walking along the corridors of the Cornerian Army Base as they returned from a meeting with Pepper about their next mission, discussing strategies as they went. And it seemed that Fox was only happy about his love making new friends and meeting new people, especially when cooperation with a military partner had turned out to work as well as it did in this case. There was never an exception to this partnership, which was caused by Jakob's slightly damaged eyesight in the first place, as an extra security measure to keep him safe in the field, and this inseparability had created a standing joke in the Cornerian Army: "You can't deny your responsibility towards the Army, just like you can't say Ghost without saying Krystal!"

Remembering all these details from G-Wing's first stay in Lylat, as well as reminiscing some key events from the human and Cerinian's long list of accolades, which demonstrated their uncanny skill of teamwork and flawless precision in the field, there was no doubt in the young commander's mind that Krystal meant what she was saying. Mending their pace, so that they came to walk at the absolute rear of the group, the pair had ample space to walk as slowly as they pleased while they discussed this. Returning her concerned stare, Jakob replied calmly to her hectic query, "Of course I'll remember that. Heck, I already knew it! And I promise you, Krystal, if anything's bothering me, I'll let you know right away. Oh, and don't you think that I've denied my obligation towards you just like that! If you're ever in a pinch, or if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm not that far away, as you've undoubtedly noticed!"

To this, Krystal chuckled a bit in amusement, her melodious laughter echoing through the hallway, before she reached out and placed a hand affectionately upon his leather-clad shoulder as they went, "Alright, I'll take your word for it, then! Now, I think Mikki and John would like you to join their discussion, just as you were about to do when I interrupted you. I'll see you when this offensive is over, my friend. Be careful, okay Jakob?" the young vixen urged him before she added in a quiet and concerned mumble, "Although I wish that I could've gone into combat along with you to look after you..."

In return, Ghost merely turned his head, looked her in her emerald eyes and flashed a wry smile at her all-consuming concern before he recalled another bit of philosophy, which could be used to perhaps calm Krystal's emotional pandemonium at this point as he started to speak with his distictive British accent, "One wonders why you argue so persistently for accompanying me into the fray, even now when we're sent to different places anyway. And one might perchance surmise, or even conceive the conclusion, that you're expecting the experiences on the battlefield to increase our friendship. You know, Krys, you shouldn't really focus on following me into combat just for the sake of being by my side. We've experienced enough together outside of war to be the good friends that we are. As the saying goes: "Shared joys make a friend, not shared sufferings," he recited solemnly, and continued upon seeing the seraphic smile of understanding, which slowly spread across Krystal's muzzle, "Ah, I see you get the gist of it. In case you're wondering, that's Nietzsche again. I do admire that fellow; he's got some quite interesting viewpoints when it comes to knowledge and will..." Jakob mused aloud

But his musings were abruptly interrupted as Krystal gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze, before she started speaking with her delicate accent, which was much akin to Ghost's own, "Yeah, I believe you, and you've proved your point quite clearly. Now, I think Mikki and John would be glad if you decided to join them up there at the front. Just take care of yourself, alright?" Krystal smiled softly, receiving a solemn nod from Jakob in return before he gave her his answer to her urging query.

"Certainly. I'm always careful; you should know that by now. And likewise, I should probably say. Take care and be careful as well, Krystal. After so many successful endeavours together, don't go dying on me now!" he grinned jokingly, clapping her lightly on the shoulder with his gloved hand before striding resolutely towards the front of the group, up to Shield and Saber, who were still fiercely debating the most genuine way to kill when the choice was between their positions in the upcoming mission.

"Alright, Saber, but try and think about this: You'll only be lucky enough to eliminate the targets that suddenly pop up and into your line of sight. It's all about remaining undetected as a marine. Me, on the other hand, I get to blast and lay waste to whole platoons of those scumbags!" the sergeant beamed broadly as the teams trotted through the door to the hangar.

John was just about to object vehemently to Mikki's claim yet again, when a third voice sounded from behind them, "Seen in the light of our opponent's violent and aggressive nature, I must agree with you, Shield. You'll be the one who gets to eliminate most of the hostile opposition, since I find it highly likely that this extraterrestrial foe will charge at your division with everything he has. You and your Landmasters do pose the greatest threat, after all," Jakob said cogently before turning his head slightly to face Saber, only to discover that the lieutenant was glowering balefully at him.

"Oh yeah, Ghost, I can clearly see you're right. Just give the big guy and his tanks all of your sympathy, and don't give a damn about me! I'm the one being sent in behind enemy lines here. I'm the one who risks my neck to make life easier for you guys by crushing the enemy from within! But all right, I don't drive a tank, I'm just me. And that's not nearly as awesome as him, is it?" John asked Ghost scathingly, obviously disgruntled with not being estimated as the most efficient killer in the field, much to the consternation of him and his undeniably large ego.

Cocking a surprised eyebrow at Saber in wonderment, rather taken aback by this sudden and overwhelming wave of animosity which emanated from him, the commander clicked his tongue slightly in exasperation before he elaborated on his estimation of their discussion. Jakob found it strange and a bit irksome that John always took every remark, which had the slightest negative meaning, personally, always thinking it was minted upon him. And even though others tried to tell him it was not so, it took a very large amount of persuasion and soothing speech to convince him otherwise.

"Have I ever said that you aren't doing a valiant thing, and that you haven't got an essential role in this mission, John? No, I haven't. And that's because it wouldn't be true if I said it. It's only when you consider it statistically that Mikki will appear… ahem… cooler than you. If you look at the missions that you guys are accomplishing, I'd say yours is definitely the coolest one. He's only blasting them down as they advance", Ghost said, nodding towards Mikki, "but you're actually smack in the middle of enemy territory, trying to take them out from within as you said, and as such, you'll also have to endure a much greater risk than Mikki will. So if you look at it that way, I definitely think that your part is the coolest!" the commander said enthusiastically to Saber, provoking a wry grin from Mikki.

"Hey Ghost, I'm just "blasting down as they advance", huh? So I'm not cool or what? Nah, I'm just messing with you, dude! Saber, the J-man said it right there. Statistically, I'll end up with most kills, but mission-wise, yours is the most awesome, without a doubt," the sergeant said respectfully in recognition of the daunting endeavour, which John was to undertake.

As he heard these honest opinions about his mission, Saber could not help but let a content smile of triumph and happiness conquer his facial features, brightening up his otherwise so glum-looking and gaunt visage. This emanation of contentment quickly spread to his eyes, these orbs of the soul, which were soon aflame with the inextinguishable glint of appreciation, "Thanks… thank you, guys! Man, that made me feel good. It's just… I always think that I'm being given the crappiest assignments, just because I'm a little untraditional every now and then. And that pisses me off quite a bit! But when you lay it out as you did just now, I can see what you mean. I should really consider it an honour, and that's what I'll do! Hell, those aliens haven't seen death until they've been John'ed!" the lieutenant grinned ferociously as the threesome reached their Arwings, which were sitting faithfully in their docking bays like giant metallic birds of prey in their nests, just waiting for their occupants to enter.

As Jakob let his gaze sweep across his friends and comrades in arms, standing vigilantly in front of their Arwings, he found their eyes to emanate an almost tangible feeling of resolve. This burst of sudden determination when it came to the forthcoming military offensive had even conquered Saber's eyes in the shortest of moments, making the happiness which was present before, dissipate without a trace.

Smiling widely and nodding solemnly in satisfaction, the commander shared a few words with the other members of G-Wing here on the eve of battle, "Well, guys, if you thought the Venomians were a big bite to swallow, you'd better think again. These aliens have proved with our chance encounter that they're more resourceful, more advanced and far more vicious and deadly than the Venomians could ever hope to become. So I urge you to tread lightly on the battlefield, keep your wits about you and – above all – be careful down there. There's no telling what you might run into, so be prepared for anything. The Great Fox, The Valaria and The Monolith will try and keep things under control in space, and probably provide air support with our heavy laser weapons, should you find yourselves in the need of taking out a heavily fortified enemy installation," He passed a few seconds to make sure that his friends had understood what he was trying to say, then clenched his fist into something that resembled an organic obsidian orb because of the black leather glove, and held out his hand with a solemn: "Ghost."

John, of rapier wit as he was, quickly caught the intention behind this seemingly impulsive manoeuvre and smacked his hand down on top of Jakob's, "Saber, dude!" the lieutenant emphasized before adding confidently, "And don't worry about me. I'll be careful and I'll do just fine. I promise!"

Resolutely, Mikki's hand came down upon the two others, completing the unification with a stout exclamation of his own code name, "Shield!" The three of them held this pose for some seconds, bolstering their confidence up, their arms forming a three-lined figure whose point of origin was at their conjoined hands, until they broke this seal of friendship by shooting their arms high into the air with a synchronic, "G-Wing!"

Their spell of friendship-induced ecstasy was quickly broken by the soft laughter of several individuals. The three human commandos turned around in awe to find the Star Fox Team standing in the doorway to the hangar, donning big grins; not grins out of resentment or ridicule, but merely in enjoyment of the little victory ritual, which the threesome had just demonstrated. After a while, Fox stepped forward to speak on behalf of his crew, who were still standing slightly behind him.

"Team G-Wing, on behalf of the Star Fox Team, I just want to wish you good luck on this campaign. You're going to need it, I'm sure, but on the other hand, if we didn't have you at all, we might as well sit in a corner and sulk when it came to this confrontation. The three of you have made us realize a lot of different things during your second stay here in Lylat, and you've also demonstrated that if anyone has the skills, which are needed to pull this off successfully, it's you. And we don't doubt your valour or loyalty for one second. Now get out there and show those aliens that we mean business! Good luck!" the vulpine mercenary said solemnly, backed up by applauses from his crewmembers.

The human commandos answered Team Star Fox with similar positive greetings, before Mikki and John quickly stuffed their weapons in the rear compartment of their Arwings; Jakob's armaments fitted so closely to his person that he could carry them with no problems at all, even when he was flying. When they were done loading their craft, Team G-Wing swiftly embarked and began the normal pre-flight checks and procedures, mostly acting on instincts and routine since they had done this numerous times before. When these procedures had been completed and the G-Diffusers had charged up sufficiently, as evidenced by their persistent hum which was audible even through the tinted cockpit canopy, the humans each pressed a button inside their cockpits, which made the engines release this prodigious amount of energy in one sudden blast.

And with a vibrant flash of ionized G-Diffuser exhaust and purple fluorescent afterglow, they were gone.

---

Space in the Lylat System was not any different from space found in other reaches of the universe: When one entered it in a spaceship, one could always count on the fact that it was completely sterile and devoid of life. However, as the three G-Wing members blasted out of the shielded hangar onboard the Great Fox, this was not the first thought that struck them. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Hanging in space, calmly anticipating their arrival, were four colossal Cornerian starships. Two of them were cruisers, one of them having the discernible form of The Valaria while the other one was a newcomer, whereas the other two were clearly transport craft of some kind. The first transport craft looked like an ordinary intergalactic freighter vessel, while the other one seemed to carry what looked like an oversized silver cigar or torpedo of some kind on its underside, its shiny hull reflecting the cinnabar rays of Solar with blinding intensity.

Mikki eyed the large freighter intently as the three Arwings streaked on through the void. In his head, he had already begun to think about how many Landmasters the humongous transport ship could possibly muster if one crammed them tightly together in the hold, when Jakob's voice with its characteristic British accent echoed out through his comlink suddenly, jolting the sergeant out of his contemplative mental reverie.

"Alright, guys, this is where I get off from this group. I already know my place, and conveniently enough, my ship's right over there. So I just think I'll head over there and make sure everything's set to go. Good luck to both of you, Mikki and John. I'll see you when this is over, but while it lasts, I won't fret. I know that the two most skilful and reliable persons that I've ever had the luck to meet are down there on the ground, battling with the others, and if they can't handle it properly and ensure a Cornerian victory, no-one can. I've got faith in you, guys. See you, and best of luck to you both again! Ghost out!" With that, the commander activated his afterburners on full throttle and veered away from the course the others were flying, plotting a new vector straight for The Valaria, the purple ionized exhaust outlining his path perfectly.

The two remaining Arwings flew on for some time, trying to estimate which of the remaining ships that was theirs, until John finally settled for the ship with the cigar-like pod fastened to its underside. And he promptly said so to Shield, "You know, dude, that metal thing looks pretty much like a drop pod or something, so I'm willing to bet my cap that it's the marine-ship right there. And that's where I need to go! See ya!" the lieutenant exclaimed energetically before blasting off towards the queerly looking cruiser, the sergeant giving him a merry smile and a faithful wave as he went. Now left alone and with only one probable destination, Mikki immediately plotted a course for the large transport ship. He dismissed the other heavy cruiser next to The Valaria as his possible destination, because it was more suited for attacking targets and not for carrying equipment, judging from the looks of it.

As he reached the hangar and instinctively completed the landing check procedures, Shield found his Arwing to be guided towards a rather narrow space at the back of the hangar, in which it should land. And as he glanced around the hangar, the sergeant immediately knew why only such a small space had been left for his craft. Lined up in a dense formation, thirty Landmasters stood ready, split into six rows with five tanks in each. Their angular, metallic bodies almost resembled the sturdy carapace of some weird futuristic insect, their blue and white Cornerian colours gleaming in the light from the lamps in the ceiling. Pilots and soldiers were sitting in the open cockpits of the heavily armoured military vehicles, chatting idly about this and that, seemingly neglecting the awesome and destructive force they were in command of. The long, sleek and white pulse-cannons, which protruded visibly from the fronts of the Landmasters just below the cockpit, sent the clear signal that this Lylatian contraption was no to be trifled with, unless one dearly wished to be obliterated.

After he hopped out of his Arwing cockpit, retrieving his weapons from the compartment in the back of the craft, Shield began to stroll past the rows of Landmasters to find his own, his appearance earning him more than a couple of suspicious glances from the assembled Cornerians that were sitting on top of their tanks. But as the sergeant was actively looking for his own vehicle, a rather deep and gruff voice sounded from somewhere within the crowd of Landmasters, actually to the left of his current position.

"Sergeant Mikki? If you're looking for your Landmaster, it's right over here, sir!"

Shield resolutely turned his head, only to spot a burly Cornerian rhinoceros waving to him from within the horde of assembled tanks. The creature was clad in a standard blue and white Cornerian military fatigue, a blue uniform with a white flak vest on top. Despite this pretty standard apparel, it was clear that this Cornerian was a force to be reckoned with. His thick, dark-grey skin tensed out the fabric of the uniform, and one needed not possess first-class vision to notice the large muscles, which were bulging underneath the fabric and skin, giving him this burly figure. The white horns protruding from his nose were long and pointed, and Mikki soon found himself thinking that he would not want to be on this guy's bad side, seeing as he could easily impale people with a mere flick of the head in their direction. The eyes of this Lylatian rhinoceros were quite small and beady, and sat deeply in their sockets. But this did not prevent the human sergeant from trusting the Cornerian completely as he laid eyes on him, for despite his otherwise aggressive-looking and battle-hardened appearance, the rhino did not seem ill-tempered or hot-headed, wanting to pick a fight with everybody in the immediate vicinity. On the contrary, his demeanour emanated unquestionable calmness in this relaxed atmosphere, and undoubtedly fierce lust for battle when the times of war were upon the Lylat System.

Shield nodded affirmatively in response to the query, which made a wry smile conquer the slightly wrinkled facial features of the rhinoceros as the sergeant walked to him, eventually standing in front of the Landmaster he had been assigned, and which the rhinoceros had also pointed out, "Great! We got word from Pepper that you'd be arriving here shortly from the Great Fox, and that you were to take charge during our operation on the alien planet. Well, you can't take charge without knowing those closest to you, and I'll be your main contact for this mission. I'm Sergeant Harry Gaines, commanding officer of the 156th Cornerian Armoured Division… when you're not here to take charge, that is!" Gaines grinned jokingly, receiving an equally amused grin from Mikki in return.

"Hey, since I don't outrank you or anything, let's just drop the surnames and the "sir", alright? It's just so boringly formal. Actually, I like working with first names. Hell, it adds more personality to the one you're speaking to. It's either Mikki or Shield if you're going to call for me in the future, Harry!" the sergeant said firmly after the rhino had introduced himself, albeit with a wide smile on his face. And Sergeant Gaines did not find it the least bit difficult to smile back.

"Alright then, Shield, whatever you say! You're the man now, remember? But I hope that you're ready to kick some ass soon, because we'll be giving those aliens everything we have when we arrive at the planet and are deployed. Hopefully, we'll be dropped straight outside their outer defensive perimeter, so that we can take the fight to them right away. We'll punch a hole through their defences, scatter their forces and raze their installations to the ground. And hopefully, nothing will be left of those scumbags when we've done our job and given the other fronts some time to do theirs. So what do you say? You have the final word, after all," the rhinoceros said enquiringly, looking searchingly at the human before him, waiting to hear whether or not his strategy was accepted

And luckily, Gaines did not have to linger on in doubt for long, for practically as soon as the Cornerian had said the last word, Mikki's face split into a wide smile of contentment, before he voiced his joyous acceptance enthusiastically, "Hell yeah, that's my kind of plan! To go all-out and don't let anything stand in our way. Those alien bastards are going to be so sorry that they messed with us to begin with, and they won't even know what hit 'em! I'm fresh on that plan, Harry, so let's do this!" he said spiritedly, his sudden outburst of eagerness earning him some queer glances from the Lylatians around him. And resolutely, Gaines let his firm gaze sweep over the members of his division.

"Hey, what're you looking at? Haven't you ever seen a sergeant from another solar system with charisma and an appetite for battle? Just mind your own business until we're deployed. You'll get to kick some alien butt soon enough, boys!" the Cornerian sergeant shouted gruffly to his crewmembers, albeit with a wry smile plastered across his face, before he turned his attention back to Shield, "Anyway, your Landmaster's right here, so why don't you do like my boys do? Just hop into it and get to familiarize yourself with it for a while until we go down there. It's pretty goddamned relaxing to do that, and it's like you get the feel of your tank better when you've been sitting in it for some time. Trust me; it's nice, just like your weapons! I'll see you down there, Shield!" the rhinoceros said energetically, nodding respectfully at the sergeant's armaments, before he gave him a quick pat on the shoulder with his large hand and thumped through the rows of Landmasters to find his own vehicle.

As Mikki once again stowed his weapons away in a compartment at the side of the tank, climbed up into the cockpit and leaned back in the comfortable seat, he could not banish the thought from his head that he was now truly among equal beings. Soldiers, who could think rationally, but also relished the thought of bringing ultimate destruction to the enemy as much as he did. Gaines' – or rather Harry's – plan proved that. There was no vexing strategy involved here; no planning events beforehand like Saber and Ghost were forced to do, in a sense. This was solely about paving a path of utter obliteration through the land, the defences and the flesh of their enemy with their pulse-cannons, showing the true might of the Cornerian military juggernaut.

With this comforting thought lodged firmly in the back of his head, Shield found the urge to relax irresistible. He leaned back further, placing his hands at the back of his neck to support his head, closed his eyes and took a deep sniff of the air, enjoying the sharp smell of the fuel in the hangar aboard a Lylatian transport ship. This relaxed feeling, along with the steady hum of the engines and the garbled din of the hangar, almost lulled the competent human sergeant into sleep.

And he gladly accepted the offer, which his subconscious was beguiling him to take, knowing full well that their crusade of devastation would require all the strength and willpower his mind and body could gather before then. It would certainly not allow any time for such a feeble thing as rest.

---

It was not an unimaginable multitude of Arwings that startled John as he directed his own Arwing to a smooth landing in the hangar bay of the marine-ship. In actuality, it was the absence of such an overwhelming gathering of aircraft. When one excluded Saber's newly arrived Arwing, only five other ships filled the seemingly immense vacuum of the hangar. It seemed like such an immense void to John because he had grown accustomed to seeing a swarm of metallic Arwings lined up in almost every hangar bay he visited.

Frowning slightly in unspoken wonderment about the non-existent multitude of ships, the lieutenant exited his craft, retrieved his weapons from their compartment, and let his gaze sweep searchingly across the hangar once. The only exit that came into sight was a small metal door at the far end of the room, and since he did not know where to go or whom to report to, Saber decided with himself that he might as well go that way. Righting the cap with the Kamikaze-sign on his head, John walked briskly through the hangar, whistling an improvised tune and flinging Ragetooth across his back. But the whistling quickly trailed off as the door opened with a hiss of compressed air when he was a short distance from it, and five armour-clad Lylatians stepped out and eyed him sharply.

In actuality, what they were wearing was not "real" armour since it was not made of metal, but it was rather a seemingly custom-made suit of glossy, obsidian-black synthetic cladding, which fitted tightly to the entire body of each soldier, except for the head and hands. The prominent tightness of this protective garment outlined the form of the bodies beneath it, and one could clearly see that they shared a common trait, although one would have to guess at what they really looked like without the futuristic armour. Each and every one of the five Lylatians was of a slender and athletic build, muscles bulging at all the right places without being too dominant at one place. The group consisted of a tiger, a falcon, a husky, a panther and – surprisingly enough as the only female – a lioness. And, judging from their weapons and demeanour, each of them held a different position in the roster of the elite Cornerian Marines.

The tiger was, without a doubt, the leader of the team. His green eyes radiated an unparalleled determination to do what he had to, and at the same time they also contained a coldness and sincerity that would have made even Ghost flinch, had he looked into them. The sharp features of his slim visage were further underlined by the particular striped pattern of orange and black, which was irreversibly connected with animals of his species. A light laser SMG was dangling loosely from a strap at his side.

The husky and the panther both seemed to bear the perpetually stony expression that is often found with assault troops. Because they did most of the killing when the team was in a pinch, they were also the ones who were quickest to repress these horrid and haunting memories of spilled blood and conflict by their own hands. Both animals brandished a large laser assault rifle in their hands, but it became evident from the first time Saber laid his eyes on them that they did not notice much of what was going on, if it did not involve the solving of a conflict. The husky just stood there, fixating his cold eyes on John, breathing steadily through his muzzle, his grey fur not bristling or moving the least. The panther was almost the same, except one could not really see any depth in his face, let alone notice where his head began and the suit ended, for the jet-black fur was namely as black as it could be, without the slightest specks of a brighter nuance. The only things that were clearly visible in his face were his golden eyes, but also they seemed not to sparkle with wit and intensity, seemingly devoid of any process of thought or emotion.

However, a nice exception to the serious glares was the falcon, whose ice-blue eyes seemed to sparkle with the subtle glints of humour and rapier wit. This apparent fondness for humour and joy was also clearly evidenced by the perpetual wry grin, which seemed to cling to the beak of the avian no matter what. His crimson feathers also made him stand out amidst the dominant colours of black and grey, both those on his head and the tips of his wings, which protruded from the sleeves of the jet-black battledress. He was clearly the scout of the party, as evidenced by his relatively light encumbrance and the low-intensity pulse-rifle that was flung across his back.

Lastly, the majestic lioness who kept herself slightly in the back of the group, presumably to remain as unnoticed as possible, was the team's sniper. If one could not deduce this by noticing the large Cornerian sniper rifle that she had slung haphazardly across her shoulder, one could surely notice this by looking her in the eye. The normally beautiful cerulean gleam caused by her irises was now almost as cold and sharp as Antarctic ice, so that one involuntarily got the feeling that she was looking through her audience with no problems at all. John caught himself thinking that the lioness did not need the scope, which was mounted on her rifle, with all its various sight adjustments. That gaze could penetrate whatever solid object that stood in her way, he thought amusedly to himself. The golden-tanned fur and bold demeanour of the Lylatian combined with her chilling gaze stated that she was indeed the classic sniper: Distinguished and in possession of an undeniable awareness of herself, but also cold and calculating enough to take out a target remorselessly if need be.

After a few seconds of estimating stares where neither side found it prudent to speak, Saber tentatively cleared his throat and spoke up somewhat hesitantly, "Er… yeah, so here we are. I'm Lieutenant John, and I was told that I should report to you guys… I think. But perhaps you've heard about someone named Saber that should contact you. Well, no need to worry, because that's also me!" he beamed energetically. But his enthusiasm soon dissipated when he was met by all of their stares. All of the marines were seemingly unaffected by his facetious demeanour, their eyes displaying not a flicker of emotion whatsoever.

The tiger levelled his calculating gaze at the human lieutenant in front of him, staring at him intently for some time before making a slight sound in the back of his throat. Whether it was a sound of acceptance or consternation was hard to determine, but he spoke up nevertheless, "Oh, so you're the one that Pepper talked about when we were contacted. Yes, he did tell us that someone was coming to command us in this conflict, and it seems that he was right. We just never expected it to be an extraterrestrial, so we were understandably a little flabbergasted. Well then, Saber, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Captain Mark Reynolds, team leader of the Cornerian marine group The Spectres. And these are the lieutenants Anderson, Cosby, Mason and Lamont," he said formally as he introduced the others by surname and pointed to the husky, panther, falcon and lioness respectively as he said the names.

To this, John merely replied with a hand to the cap and a wide smile, opting to break the almost tangible emotional ice between them, "Wow, thank you for the introduction, and it's great to meet you guys, all of you. Now, I think that those old fossil officials back at Corneria had some kind of mission in store for us, so why don't we go and prepare?" he asked enthusiastically. Reynolds nodded curtly in acceptance once he heard the query, turned on his heel and walked through the door in the hangar wall, proceeding down a stairwell to the bottom of the ship, his team following right behind him with Saber bringing up the rear, looking around curiously.

As they walked, the falcon Mason let himself fall behind from the rest of the group, so that he eventually ended at John's side. He clapped him once on the shoulder with his wing to let Saber know that he was there, which provoked a quick twist of the head from the human lieutenant in order to see his new companion.

The falcon merely grinned merrily at him before speaking up, "Hey there, buddy, and welcome on the team! Heck, it's not every day that we get to work with someone who's not even from Lylat, and I consider it quite an honour! But some of the others are pretty pessimistic, especially Anderson and Cosby up there at the front – old war trauma and something like that, you know – but I'm glad you're here. And that's some cool weapons you've got there, pal!" the crimson avian said approvingly, nodding once at John's sword and blaster in acceptance before arching a feathered eyebrow slightly in wonderment, "Say, where's your laser armour? And have you ever done a FAD before?" Mason enquired doubtfully upon realizing that Saber's cladding was not at all their standard, pronouncing the acronym as if it were one word.

John answered the query by looking at Mason with a slightly queer stare of bewilderment, as if he were baffled about how anyone could question his preferred apparel, "Hey, if you're talking about that tight spandex-thing you guys are wearing, forget it! I'm quite comfortable in my old rags here. Hell, I've never changed this mission outfit in any campaign, since I started using it seven months ago. It gives me all the flexibility and protection that I need, believe me!" the lieutenant emphasized strongly before continuing, "And no, I haven't done fat before, and it'll be a cold day in Hell before I'll do it. That just sounds downright nasty!"

In response to Saber's mishearing the acronym in his question, Mason crumpled into a paroxysm of amused laughter, clapping the human lieutenant on the back once again, "That was a good one, buddy! Seriously, it rocks!" the crimson avian chuckled, trying to wipe the tears of laughter from his ice-blue eyes. When the laughter had subsided, Mason spoke up eagerly, "No, I didn't mean fat, but FAD. F-A-D," he spelled out, "It stands for Fast Atmospheric Descent. The whole idea is that once we get the green light to go from the top brass and our coordinates of insertion have been decided, we'll be dropped down onto the planet in our little beautiful drop pod. I'm sure you saw that long steel thing underneath the ship when you flew in, and that's where we're heading now," he said, continuing as he saw John's affirmative nod, "Well, if you've never done a FAD before, be prepared for the wildest thing ever. Seriously, while you're falling towards the planet and through the atmosphere with God only knows how many space miles per hour, it feels like two invisible hands are pressing you into a neat little meat-package, one from the top and one from the bottom, while your brain is trying to squeeze its way out through your nostrils! It's a blast!" Mason grinned wryly.

Upon hearing his overdramatic tale of the process of a Fast Atmospheric Descent, the lioness by the name of Lamont turned her head slightly and gave the crimson avian an ice-cold stare, which could have frozen an erupting volcano in its tracks, "Hey Mason, keep all of your little horror stories to yourself, alright? There's no need to scare our guest… I mean, our new CO… more than it's necessary. He'll get his share of scares once we're down there!" she said before baring her sharp fangs in a smile directed at the human lieutenant. It was presumably intended to be friendly, but nevertheless, Saber found it to be quite unnerving.

"Well, here we are. Stop squabbling and take your seats, people!" Reynolds cut through authoritatively. Only now, when his attention was diverted from the chatting members of the team, John noticed that they had entered a long and narrow room, which seemed to be a bit concave in the middle. Judging from the form, Saber estimated it to be the drop pod, which he had sighted from his Arwing. The room consisted of nothing more than a small control panel at the very end, with only a few scant buttons on it, and eight intricately designed chairs, four lining each wall, with a long narrow steel box next to each one. As the entire team had entered the pod, Reynolds marched up to the opening they had come through and pressed a little green-glowing button next to it. At once, a plate of steel slammed down from above, effectively and hermetically sealing the marines inside the pod as it blocked the opening. Once this was done, the interior of the pod was illuminated by a dim, red light, almost of the same crimson colour as Mason's feathers. And for some reason, John did not like the emergency power lighting or whatever it was. Here on the eve of a critical offensive, where tension was already running high like seemingly tangible waves going through the air, emanating from each individual, the crimson light only contributed to giving the pod and its occupants a rather unsettling and unusual luminescence.

"Our pod has now gone into stealth-mode," the reserved tiger explained emotionlessly to Saber, "We can't be tracked by radar now, even as we're hanging here underneath our carrier. And what's more, this'll also last when we're being dropped down, so the hostiles won't see us coming. I just thought that, as our coming CO, despite the fact that I actually outrank you, you'd like to be aware of what's going on. Well, until we reach our destination, there's nothing for you to do than sit back and relax. So I suggest you do that. You're going to need all the preparation you can get when we're down there. Place your weapons in the box next to your seat before you sit down. That way we're sure that they won't fly around when we're dropped," Reynolds explained, gesturing towards Cosby and Anderson, who were doing just that.

With an acceptant shrug, the human lieutenant slipped Ragetooth off his back and stuffed it into the box along with his blaster, before he took a seat next to Mason along the right wall while Reynolds, Anderson, Cosby and Lamont took the four seats opposite the two. As John strapped the large bonds of metal that were fastened to the chair across his wrists, ankles and torso, so that he was completely secured from flailing about when the drop came, he heard Mason's voice in his ear, "Hey buddy, I was just messing with you before when I told you about the FAD. It's not that bad, really. I think you'll find it quite fun!" the crimson avian remarked reassuringly.

As much as he tried to tell his conscience that what Mason said was true, John found that his mind had a very hard time agreeing with his personal self when it came to the truth of this joking postulate.

---

"Wow, sir! That's a lot of weapons! I didn't expect you to come so well-equipped," the silvery-furred wolf at the weapons controls of The Valaria said approvingly as his human superior briskly walked onto the bridge, his armaments presenting a noticeable change from the previous impression his crewmembers had gotten of him, although his clothes were still the same. In the middle at the guidance controls, Lieutenant Jackson also gave a wide grin as he eyed the commander's blasters and SMGs, and even Kyra Hawthorne could not keep a smile from flashing across her snow-white muzzle.

"Thank you, lieutenant-commander! Yes, it's strange how the multiple aspects and facets of an individual's personality can perpetually continue to amaze, isn't it?" Jakob asked his weapons officer jokingly, receiving a dismissing wave of the hand in return. He glanced around the bridge once to make sure everything was as he expected it to be. And then, Ghost saw it. The holo-screen, which was installed here much in the same fashion as onboard the Great Fox, was aglow with the image of an elderly gecko in an aquamarine Cornerian military uniform. Judging from the shoulder straps with lots of silver stars, it was obvious that this animal held a high rank within the Cornerian Army. The oblong and scaly face of the Lylatian was coloured an almost fluorescent nuance that lied somewhere between green and turquoise, and was furthermore covered by a net of fine wrinkles, which had seemingly just begun to appear, since they were not so prominent yet. His bulbous, yellow eyes with the small, but intently focused and determined, black pupils were fixated on the human commander as Jakob turned around to meet the gaze of this Lylatian official.

"Ah, so this is the new commander of The Valaria, and the commanding officer of our current fleet-operation. So young, not even a native Lylatian, and already in possession of the Cornerian Medal of Honour. How amusing," the gecko mused aloud, eyeing the medal on Ghost's lapel before continuing his speech with his slightly rasping but mild-tempered voice, "Well, at any rate, commander, it's nice to make your acquaintance. I am also a commander in fact, so you won't have to worry about one of us outranking the other. So since we'll be fighting together today, I might as well introduce myself. I'm Commander Dave Bennett, proud captain of the most sturdy cruiser in the Cornerian fleet if I may say so myself, The Monolith. Take a look out the window and look next to The Valaria. You'll see what I mean!" Bennett said slyly, the hint of an expectant smile flickering across his reptilian visage.

Excited to see what the gecko could mean by this, the commander strolled over to the wide window on the bridge and looked through it. And there, just outside their ship, he saw The Monolith, the heavy cruiser that Pepper had mentioned and where Bennett spoke from. Whereas The Valaria was primarily streamlined in its design in order to incorporate better manoeuvrability, it was clear that The Monolith did not need to make any evasive manoeuvres, since it could take an extreme amount of punishment, at least by judging from its appearance. This behemoth starship, which outsized The Valaria by two times its length, seemed to be completely triangular in shape, with a small bridge sitting exactly at the foremost tip of the triangle. The two other tips were at the end of the construct where the sides connected, just at either side of the four enormous ion-flux engines that sat in a straight row along the backside of the craft, glowing a bright and blinding yellow nuance like concentrated solar flares. The rays of Solar grazed the shiny hull of the ship as it lazily hovered through space, making the whitish Cornerian flak armour glimmer and sparkle with different breathtaking hues of red.

And The Monolith's capability to defend itself was also witnessed by its abundance of destructive weaponry. Laser and plasma turrets of varying energy intensities were protruding from the hull, sitting tightly in rows across the ship like hair on the back of a huge beast. It really made sense to say that this ship was bristling with weapons, for in addition to all the turrets, two sleek, black pulse cannons that resembled those on the Great Fox sat at the front of the lethal construct. Although they were not as technically advanced as the IPCs onboard The Valaria, they could undoubtedly still pack a punch. So in essentials, The Monolith was as well suited for defence as it was for offence, coated as it was in a thick layer of flak armour, possibly with a quite powerful energy shield to boot.

Jakob eyed the impressive cruiser for some time, taking in every detail of the expertly crafted ship, before turning his gaze back to Bennett, who was smiling widely now as he saw the human commander give a wry grin and arch an eyebrow in recognition of the excellence, which The Monolith embodied, "I must say, my fellow colleague, that you've got quite an impressive ship there. It's excellent in every aspect. Now, allow me to share my strategic musings with you in regard to our forthcoming offensive: Charging straight forwards into enemy ranks is usually anathema to me, but I think that it might just work in your case. You seem to be well outfitted to take that kind of heavy punishment. And because of this, that's what I think we should do. When we arrive at the alien home world and engage their fleet, you plough through the first lines of their defences and then deploy your fighters. How many do you have onboard?" Ghost asked enquiringly, provoking a confident grin from the elderly gecko.

"One hundred and forty, sir. One hundred and forty Arwings, ready to blast off as soon as I give the signal!" Bennett exclaimed promptly. The human commander nodded in affirmation and paused for the shortest of moments as he calculated the resulting number within his head.

"That leaves us with two hundred and ten Arwings in total", he said at last, "We have seventy here onboard The Valaria. So, if you and your forces can penetrate their defences and deploy right in their midst, while we and the Great Fox sit at the edge and prod them a bit with our own fighter contingents, our IPCs and torpedoes, I think we just might cause a large enough commotion in the enemy ranks to throw their carefully conceived stratagem into disarray. Do you have anything else to suggest, Commander Bennett, or are we clear?" he queried calmly, wanting to hear his new and experienced ally out.

But it seemed that, in spite of all his experience, Bennett had nothing to complain about in regard to the strategy, which the young human had just conceived, for he only answered the question with an affirmative, "Crystal!"

"Good," Ghost said curtly, albeit affirmatively, " I'm glad to hear that you accept my plan, Commander Bennett. Being accepted by such an experienced individual as you is a great relief to me. Now, if you're all ready here on The Valaria, not to mention aboard the other ships as well, we can begin moving out. Hawthorne, what's the status?" he asked his radar-analyst and technical supervisor commandingly, since she was the one who also handled the primary communication aboard the vessel.

Resolutely, the arctic vixen swivelled around in her chair to face him, "All ships just reported in a few minutes ago. They're all ready to move out. The Great Fox, the Landmaster-division and the marine carrier. And our ship is also in tip-top condition, All systems are nominal, we have the coordinates set for the alien home world and we're ready to jump!" she concluded firmly. To this, Jakob replied with a curt nod in acceptance before turning yet again to face the elderly gecko on the holo-screen.

"Oh, don't you worry about us! We're all set to go here. Weapons and engines are primed and on, with no anomalies detected. So just lead the way. We'll be right behind you! Bennett out!" the Lylatian commander stated with a wry grin before terminating the connection, instantly reducing the glow of the holo-screen to a murky blackness, which was much like staring at the seemingly starless panorama of space outside the ship.

Having checked the radar and made sure that all of the other ships were lined up in formation behind them, Ghost gave the final order, which in reality started this fierce Lylatian crusade of vengeance, "Alright. Activate hyper-drive engines and jump out to the designated location," Immediately, he reached out and clamped his hand tightly around the back of one of the chairs on the bridge just as the ship gave a mighty lurch forwards and seemingly flung itself into the whirling and churning tunnel of vivid and intertwining colours of its own accord, the tunnel that represented hyperspace and which had just appeared in the fabric of the murky blackness outside their ship. As The Valaria blasted onwards through the treacherous recesses of this extradimensional, parallel space, the commander found his mind wandering again, like it had done previously when they jumped out to confront the Venomians.

Jakob was glad that he and Mikki had cleared the little mission-controversy up with John before they left the Great Fox, for this was no time for animosity. To add verisimilitude to this, Pepper had placed them in commanding positions; posts where they had to be absolutely clear about what they were doing, why they were doing it and when they were doing it. In the positions that the G-Wing members held now, they could not afford to let such a primordial factor as denied or subdued rage or enmity interfere with their carefully constructed equation of leadership. It was an unknown constant, which was best eliminated from and not factored into this equation, or else the entire offensive might go down the drain along with the soldiers, who would gladly give their life under G-Wing's guidance to ensure a Cornerian victory. And Ghost was not about to let the lives of some valiant individuals go to waste because of his own rushed misgivings about the situation.

"Wow… sir, would you look at that!" Williams breathed in utter amazement, completely awestruck about the sight that met him outside the window, jolting Jakob from his contemplative reverie. The commander had been so lost in his stray thoughts that he had not even noticed their exit from hyperspace. And judging from the object hanging in space outside, towards which the surprised gaze of each and every one of his crewmembers was fixated, they had arrived at exactly the right place.

"Well, well, well; what have we here? That Episode Two wasn't such a bad movie after all… and space can be so utterly revealing when you take your time and just look at it!" Ghost mumbled contently, a thin serene smile of satisfaction flickering across his slightly aquiline visage as he eyed the celestial body outside with a wary eye.

Situated against the backdrop of the rising Solar, the planet gave an impression of being about to go down in a hail of flame. The great and ancient sun of the Lylat System spread its cinnabar rays over the planet's atmosphere as it rose over the celestial body with a seemingly unnatural speed, making it seem as if a virtual sea of fire was slowly, but steadily, engulfing the spherical object hanging before the Lylatians. The hues that appeared because of Solar's refraction in the atmosphere began to mesh as the sun rose higher, creating an irritatingly obscuring, but undeniably beautiful, blur of intertwining cyan, purple, yellow, orange and reddish hues that washed over the planet, making it virtually impossible to spot any detailed things on it, such as its terrain or other elemental composition. So the only thing that was left for the gathered Lylatians to do was to gawk at this incredible astronomical phenomenon as it unfolded itself before them in all its splendour.

"I've… I've never seen anything like this," Kyra said quietly in wonderment, the sapphire orbs that were her eyes aglow with the fiery luminescence of the light-refracted conflagration in the atmosphere, "In all my years in the Lylat System, I've never encountered something of this beauty… " Her voice quickly trailed off as Solar rose even higher above the planet, the refraction of the atmosphere making its rays bend and twist, so that it looked like a halo of celestial flame was now forming above the planet, giving it almost the same corona as the one, which was present around Solar.

"Well, I'm sorry to disturb and shatter your mental poetic reverie, let alone to crush it with the blunt facts of science, ensign, but one thing's for sure, though," Jakob mumbled contemplatively as he eyed the incandescent radiance which prevailed and spread throughout the pitch-black void now that Solar seemingly reached its zenith above the planet, "This planet doesn't have an equinoctial cycle, and this might prove inconvenient or hampering for our troops. I mean, we've been here for a relatively short time, and just look at how far Solar has already risen. Something's amiss here, either with this sector of space or the planet itself, for this speed of planetary rotation just isn't natural." He paused and gazed warily at the planet again. Solar had now begun to drift off in another direction around the planet, so that the blur of colours, which had been formed by its rising, now slowly dissipated. And as much as it pained the Lylatians that this abundance of astronomical beauty was gone, they were also reminded that they had a job to do. With steadfastness echoing in his voice, Ghost gave his next order.

"Hawthorne, order every ship in the fleet to form up behind us and follow us as we go. We're going in to take a closer look at this little thing. Jackson", he said, turning to face the elderly husky at the controls, "accelerate to cruise speed. Initiate geo-synchronized orbit and plot a vector with a ten-degree angle of approach, following the equatorial lines across the planet, starting at its dayside. Then we can cruise around it nicely and quietly, while keeping a safe distance at the same time. Understood?" the young human commander asked authoritatively, and continued upon seeing the husky lieutenant's affirmative nod and wry grin, "And Williams, I presume you know what to do…" Ghost said, his voice trailing off in an insinuating manner before he completed his order, "Prime and charge up the IPCs!" Shortly after the orders were given, the competent crewmembers aboard The Valaria had done their various jobs, and the Cornerian fleet, consisting of The Valaria, The Monolith, the Great Fox, the freighter with the Landmasters and the marine drop ship, began to glide almost silently through the void of the Lylat System.

Since the pyrotechnics of dawn were now over, more and more details on the surface unveiled themselves gradually as the various ships streaked along their newly set orbital paths with The Valaria in the lead. Ragged continents began to appear as black and green amorphous blotches on the tranquil and plain aquamarine surface of the vast sea, which seemed to dominate much of this astronomically hidden globe, its strange, bulbous form and misshapen lands contributing to the impression of it not being a full-fledged planet, but merely a twisted sphere of abnormalities; an abomination of the universe, which still possessed a strangely compelling impulse that made every onlooker lose him- or herself momentarily in the impressive sweeping vista of the continents and oceans on the misshapen universal orb.

Several places at the different continents, Jakob noticed that the belts of unspoiled jungle, which seemed to flourish there and reach their way across the continents, were cut through by some intriguing red lines which were glowing faintly when they were seen from space. Wondering slightly about what this could possibly be, Ghost filed it in the back of his head for determination at a later time, since he wanted his visual acuity to be at its highest now that they were traversing an unknown world. But as the fleet had drifted a little longer in space, it soon became apparent that there was nothing more to find. Everything of interest included the vast sea, the jungle and the large plains or vast patches of seemingly uninhabited no man's land, which stretched from the coast of the continents to the beginning of the dense belt of jungle.

Upon seeing this and storing it in his mind, the human commander turned to Kyra yet again, "Hawthorne, I do agree with you that this breathtaking view is marvellous, indeed. And that's why we need to purge our enemies from this world. Initiate a planet-wide scan for any structured life-forms. That might give us an idea about where these scumbags are holed up." Immediately, the arctic vixen complied by pushing a series of buttons deftly, as if she had just waited for this moment to arise.

"Scan complete, sir," she announced when the process was done, pointing to the screen in front of her where a three-dimensional image of the planet was being displayed, "The largest concentration of life is by far on this continent here. It seems to me that the way, in which it's structured, is rather peculiar. It's these red lines here, sir," Kyra explained, pointing to an almost triangular continent, which was not hard to spot, either, if one looked at the planet through the window. Across the continent on the scanner screen, on the broad side of the triangle just below the belt of jungle, three pulsating red lines were drawn, each of them being as straight as if it were drawn by a ruler, presumably representing enemy fortifications. And further into the jungle, a large area seemed to glow brightly with this crimson radiance, at least on the image made by the scanner, indicating that a lot of life-forms had accumulated within the lush depths of the jungle, the circular shape possibly being a base or main HQ of sorts.

As he saw the glowing outline of life, Jakob sported a wide grin of glee from ear to ear upon realizing that tracking down their enemy had not proved to be as strenuous an endeavour as he had thought it to be, "Heh, they're almost making this too easy for us! We must be under that gravitational cloak, which prevented the Cornerians from scanning this place earlier. And since they've so conveniently structured their presence here, it'll be even easier for us to invade them." He eyed the life-form signatures intently one more time before finally deciding on a course of action, speaking up with his distinctive British accent.

"Hawthorne, notify the Landmaster-division and give them the coordinates just before the three enemy fortifications or fronts," he said, pointing to the three lines on the screen, "When they deploy, they'll literally drop down upon the hostiles like lightning from the sky, and I'm willing to bet that they'll stand a fair chance of breaking through. Also, contact the marine drop ship. Give them the coordinates to the clearing in the jungle, which is some distance away from the enemy base. That way, they'll be in the most opportune position to get a drop on the enemy and find out what's going on down there. Understood?" he asked sharply, followed by a curt nod from the arctic vixen before she turned and spoke into the comlink.

Ghost turned away from her console and began staring out through the window at the front of The Valaria and down onto the designated continent on the planet, satisfied with knowing that Kyra did her work proficiently. And approximately a few minutes after her melodious stream of speech had ended, the commander noticed the thirty Landmasters descend from their sturdy carrier and onto the continent of the planet, their whitish and bluish hulls glimmering in the carmine rays of Solar and their purple boosters glowing vibrantly in the murky blackness, giving the descending armoured division an appearance of ragged metallic shooting stars or devastating celestial meteorites. Jakob smiled warmly and saluted the metallic swarm of Cornerian devastators, knowing full well that Mikki was among them and authorized to lead their campaign. And with Shield's charismatic and fierce self in the lead, Ghost would be very surprised if anything went wrong during their crusade of vengeance.

When they had disappeared from sight as they landed, the commander did not have to wait for much longer before he saw the sleek, almost cylindrical drop pod with the Cornerian marines inside of it dart towards the middle of the jungle belt, like a sort of interstellar javelin hurtling towards the heart of its enemy, intending to skewer it frontally. Again, Jakob gave a salute to the silver delivery craft which was sparkling magnificently with the cinnabar rays of Solar, also knowing that John was in it and that his inextinguishable enthusiasm, zeal and uncanny skill would let him and his team-mates prevail in this conflict.

Now positively assured that his team-mates had been delivered safely and precisely into the soon-to-be fray, Ghost turned around to face his crew again, while mumbling a sentence in Latin, almost as if he were chanting a hymn to the planet or his friends en route to it, _"Sic transit gloria mundi,"_ he mumbled solemnly, receiving quite a few interrogative and puzzled glares from his crew.

"Thus passes the glory of the world," he translated swiftly, eyeing his crewmembers with a hint of gloomy certainty in his eyes, "And I actually mean something by it: Whatever operation or base that our enemy has managed to establish down there will be gone in the blink of an eye once our troops have begun their onslaught. I know the people that are down there; they're some of my dearest and most competent friends, and I'd be quite surprised if they end up failing. Now, just continue on our present course, Lieutenant Jackson, and order the Great Fox and The Monolith to follow us. We'll need as much backup as we can get, if this planet turns out to be heavily guarded. We…"

His stream of thought was interrupted by William's somewhat hesitant and tentative exclamation, "Sir, you don't need to paint the picture for us. We can see what you mean… literally!" The quavering note of anxiety in the wolf's voice gave Jakob reason to turn around and look out of the window once again. And as he spotted what was outside, he suddenly understood the reason for William's anxious announcement.

Four of the large stingray-shaped coppery capital ships loomed large ahead in the pitch-black void of space, their magnificently crafted hulls sparkling faintly with the cinnabar luminescence from Solar, making it seem as if their hulls were constructed from newly melted gold. Even from such a long distance as this, the crew aboard The Valaria had no trouble seeing that the gemstones, which were situated at the tips of the alien armaments, glowed menacingly with purple energy, ready to unleash a devastating barrage of energized destruction upon the Cornerian intruders. To add insult to injury, the space in front of these menacing and threatening constructs seemed to swarm with life. If one looked more closely, one could undoubtedly notice the throng of copper-coloured alien strike fighters, which swirled around anxiously and threateningly, seemingly just waiting for an excuse to hurl themselves at the impudent life-forms who had just dared to bring their white and gleaming ships onto their territory.

As he saw this demoralizing sight, Ghost involuntarily swallowed once in awe before turning around with a flick of the heel to face his weapons officer, "Williams, I have a new order for you. Priority one. Load three of the four torpedo tubes with Class III Star Slayers, but load the fourth tube with a Class IV. That's an order!" he commanded authoritatively.

The silvery-furred wolf glanced wide-eyed at his human superior, amazed as he was by the fact that he had just given the order to load the prodigiously powerful Class IV-projectile, "A Class IV, sir? Are you serious? You know how devastating these things are. Are you sure that we're going to need it?" he asked in mild disbelief.

"Conceivably, yes," Jakob said gloomily as he squinted his eyes and looked intently at the enemy opposition in space before them, "I have a very strong feeling that we're going to need it!"

---

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Alrighty then; after this (hopefully) exciting chapter, listen up, my faithful readers! I've got a few things to say:

Firstly, for those of you who haven't read it yet for whatever reason, I'd strongly recommend you to read from chapter 10 ("In This Hall of Mirrors") to chapter 13 ("Nine Times to Die") in the first G-Wing story before the next update. Persons and events from those chapters, which it'll be integral to know in order to understand the plot of CtA fully, will somehow appear or be referred to in the later chapters of CtA, starting with the next one already. So for the sake of your own understanding of my plot in CtA, I urge you to do this. Thanks in advance!

And secondly: Whew! This is by far the longest chapter I've ever written! 23848 words (or something like that), according to my Document Manager. That's something at least, isn't it?

Please, do drop me a few lines of constructive criticism, and stay tuned for the next chapter after the cliffhanger! See you! ;-)


	10. Chp 8: Of Flesh and Mind

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Again, I have a few things that I need to tell you, so pay attention, if you would! ;-)

Firstly, if you expected an explanation of the events, which happened at Daytin in the first G-Wing, I'm afraid that I have to disappoint you. I refer to Daytin sometimes here in CtA and in the original G-Wing as the place where John got Ragetooth. Recently, I've made the decision to omit that part from CtA. Originally, it was meant to be in this chapter in the form of flashbacks, but when dealing with a battle of the magnitude that I hope to present here, I found it to be too much to handle when I also had to depict this crucial strike against the aliens properly. I hope you'll all respect my decision, and just see Daytin as the point of origin for Ragetooth.

Secondly, I'm sorry to have to inform you that the time between this update and the next one will unfortunately prove to be almost excruciatingly long for some devoted readers of mine, I presume. But in the near future, I'm due to write a large assignment on English poetry for one of my exams. This assignment is extremely resource-consuming, and it's imperative that it's carried out well, so therefore I'd like to be able to divert my full attention to it when I must, instead of splitting it between my exam-assignment and writing chapters. Until I finish my assignment and resume work on the next chapters, you're going to have to be satisfied with the four cliffhangers (!) that I've got for you in this chapter. But rest assured; as soon as I've typed the last keystroke in my assignment, I'll be bursting with eagerness to get working on CtA again, and then it'll flow as usual. Nothing can keep me away from this, my beloved work of art… and from the obligation that I have towards all of my fellow authors and kind fans, of course! Expect the next chapter at the end of December/the beginning of January. Yeah; I told you it'd be long...

Thanks in advance for understanding! ;-) And now, on with the battle… where something undoubtedly exciting awaits! Enjoy!

**Chapter 8: Of Flesh and Mind**

From Fox's log: _It's just so strange. Whenever we've managed to shake off some persistent enemy, another one comes along to take its place. For example this thing today. We've hardly destroyed the Venomian fleet before a new enemy ship jumps out from a warp gate of some sort and starts to open fire on us! I'm really getting tired of this, and I pray that it can end with the offensive today. We mustn't allow these aliens to go one bit further… plus, it'll also give us some serious respect in the Cornerian Army!_

From Krystal's log: _I've felt it. I've felt the realization that this battle won't be the usual frontal assault in order to deal with these unknown assailants. And as I accepted that, my feelings were meshed. Firstly, there's that of joy, because I truly believe that we and the other Cornerians can make a difference this time around with the aid of G-Wing. I'll never again be as doubtful as I was before the Venomian offensive this day, until Ghost brought peace to my mind. Secondly, a feeling of horror also shakes me, because this will be the second time that I let Jakob out of my sight in battle after G-Wing has returned here. I'm worried about him… But on the other hand, I should really stop worrying so much. He can take care of himself; he said so very convincingly to me, and that was also his reason for terminating our cooperation, after all. He'll be fine, I'm sure. I should rather worry about my dear Fox, since he'll be fighting by my side today, and I should make sure that nothing happens to him. But nevertheless: Good luck, Ghost, my dear friend…_

It was not long after Mikki and his squad had been deployed onto the alien home world that they came under fire.

To be honest, Shield had actually doubted that the presence of enemy troops in this barren wasteland could prove to be as massive as it had suddenly become, for the god-forsaken land emanated not the least bit of unnerving hostile tension or the slightest hint of an impending calamity as the heavily armoured Landmasters descended from the greying sky, their sharply contoured white and blue hulls glimmering in the last faint rays of Solar. With their powerful pulse-cannons protruding from their fronts and the thick and excellently constructed flak armour covering them, the descending Cornerian infantry units almost resembled a host of extraterrestrial belligerent entities of righteousness, coming to this world to exact vengeance upon its inhabitants.

But already when the contingent had touched ground and began to crawl its way across the rugged terrain like monstrous metallic scarabs in search of their prey, the mere bleak and desolate appearance of the surrounding land did not add profoundly to Mikki's feeling of conviction about the successful outcome of this battle. On the contrary, it only seemed to deter the otherwise adamant sergeant a bit, clouding the normally brilliantly shining light of resolve in his heart with the obscuring darkness of slight uncertainty. Cautiously, Shield eyed the landscape as it swiftly streaked past his cockpit window, fully convinced that some sinister force was at work here, although he could not tell exactly what the problem was.

The dark and dismal flat vistas of the dull grey plains of horribly withered grass and alien plants swept past outside, as the prodigious Landmaster-division made its way across the dead planet. Several places to the west, giant mountains of unfathomable size seemed to stand straight like proud elemental warriors from a time long past, fiercely plunging into the greying sky with their ragged and spiky tops. These natural formations of jet-black rock stood so tightly and narrowly together that they did not provide any sort of efficient means of egress, it suddenly occurred to Mikki, if things got out of hand and his squad needed to retreat. With their sleek and straight form, the mountains did indeed resemble elemental guardians frozen in time, looming menacingly over the approaching Cornerian trespassers with one human in the lead.

To the east, the sight was not the least bit more encouraging. The otherwise so smooth surface of the planet curved and swayed in uncontrollable angles, as if the earth itself had been a sea in movement once, but had now stiffened in the midst of an inexplicable convulsion, leaving the landscape twisted and deformed into odd wave-like hills and steep precipices, each of which would be sure to hold certain doom if one of the Landmasters accidentally fell into one of them. Not because it would be crushed by the fall – it could use its boosters to avoid any significant damage – but because the enemy would have a free line of sight to the helpless vehicle and could open fire on it without hesitation, causing its instant obliteration. This entire scenery was coloured a dull grey, which for some inexplicable reason seemed to be the dominant nuance in the flora on the planet, when one excluded the occasional streak of green or brown amidst the monotonous and dreary greyness.

But none of these sides was interesting to the advancing armoured division, for as they progressed through the alien landscape, their sole attention was attracted to what loomed large ahead. Who- or whatever had colonized this planet to begin with had certainly chosen to reinforce themselves against an eventual incoming attack, as it was clearly evidenced by the first of three obstacles that came into view of the Landmasters. In front of the advancing division, what looked like an impregnable mound of earth and rock had been erected in the middle of the terrain, spanning the width of the flat land from the foot of the mountains to the beginning of the hilly terrain. And in addition to being as wide as to block out any attempts to circumvent it by the enemy, the towering mound was also bristling with several manned batteries, rapid-firing laser guns as well as heavier plasma- or pulse-installations.

As soon as the alien occupants of this lethal construct of defence laid eyes upon the glimmering armoured division moving towards them inside the natural fire corridor, in which they were boxed in, these fearsome weapons were swiftly trained on the Landmasters before the aliens opened fire simultaneously, their guns flaring ominously with a mixture of red, blue and yellow flashes as the multicoloured energy projectiles descended upon the Cornerians and one human as a hail of shimmering shooting stars. But although they looked beautiful as the shots descended through the sky in their curved and arched trajectory, each and every Landmaster-pilot knew full well that this was not something to gawk at and blindly admire; this was indeed something that should rightfully be feared.

"Oh hell! We've got incoming artillery fire dead ahead! Everyone, split!" Mikki roared authoritatively before he activated his own thrusters on full throttle and tilted the controls slightly to the left, causing the Landmaster to strafe rapidly in that direction, before a literal rain of multicoloured energy slammed forcefully into the ground where his vehicle had been mere seconds ago, singeing the rock-hard foundation of the earth. All over the battlefield, other pilots were doing the same, splitting the previously gathered division into two separate halves, with Shield and Sergeant Gaines conveniently in command of each half.

"Harry! Take your squad and get close to the right section of the mound, then give those bastards what they deserve! I'm going to take the left half!" Shield stated forcefully, and – upon receiving an affirmative reply from Gaines – sent a transmission to his team, "Alright, guys. I don't care how much laser fire that's standing in your way. Just plough your way through! And when you get close enough, let those alien scumbags feel a taste of their own medicine… In other words, blast them to pieces!" he grinned wickedly as he and his squad redirected the boost of the afterburners to propel their craft forward, which resulted in the fifteen Landmasters to the left suddenly streaking across the blighted landscape with incredible speed.

As much as the aliens tried to keep the advancing vehicles in their sights despite their sudden increase in speed, the hail of pernicious energy, which was unleashed from their lethal weapon-contraptions, spread out because of the abrupt confusion, which had broken out on the battlefield with the Landmasters advancing so swiftly, meaning that the armoured division also endured a not so strenuous passage through the extraterrestrials' field of fire. And seemingly before the aliens manning the gun batteries even had time to blink, the Cornerian armoured division stood at the foot of the barricade as a result of the swift boosting process. But when this first phase of the storm on the mound was accomplished, Mikki sent a quick transmission to his squad before executing a truly daring action.

"Okay, people, switch your boosters to hover-position! That's the only way we're ever going to get a clear shot at these suckers. We have to take the fight straight to their altitude. Get to it, boys!" he ordered charismatically, whereupon he made his own Landmaster-boosters blaze with the characteristic and fluorescent Cornerian engine exhaust. As the glimmering metallic vessel rose higher, propelled by the purple blaze, Shield began to see the outline of the top of the mound rushing down towards him to greet him. And what was more; he could see the tip of a blazing heavy gun battery at the top, which he would appear not directly in front of, but slightly next to, as he adjusted his hovering trajectory a bit. As he cast a curious glance at the surroundings around him, Mikki saw to his great satisfaction that his other troops, and also the ones led by Gaines, had indeed decided to follow his example, for they were also slowly and inexorably drifting upwards through the air, propelled by a cloud of purple flame, which blazed out from beneath them. Each of them was heading for a specific gun emplacement on the top of the mound, which would surely be obliterated as soon as the deadly tank contingent reached the proper altitude.

"_Heh, what a way to go! To look into the long barrel of a pulse cannon on a Landmaster before it opens fire and blows you into oblivion. It's a nasty way to go, but it's also pretty just. Then those alien scumbags can learn not to mess with the Cornerians or Team Star Fox… Not when Shield's around!"_ the devoted human sergeant thought vengefully, allowing a complacent and slightly sadistic grin to play across his face just as his vessel along with all the others cleared the top of the defensive mound.

As he saw the occupant of the heavy plasma battery, a sudden flash of surprise overcame Shield's mind, making his finger stop a mere inch before the trigger for the pulse cannon on the Landmaster. He did not know what else he would have expected, but when he saw the creature manning the battery, Mikki agreed with himself that this was the last life form he would ever have expected to see here of all places.

"What the hell? A Sharpclaw? What in the world is a Sharpclaw doing away from Sauria? And what's up with all those metallic things on it?" he muttered wonderingly to himself under his breath, eyeing the reptilian warrior with obvious amazement. If the Sharpclaw he had seen Fox battle on Sauria, when he played SF Adventures back on Earth, were the genuine ones, then this was a reproduction of some kind, or – at the very least – a Sharpclaw so drastically altered that no coherent similarity between the two could be seen.

The bipedal humanoid reptilian soldier was one of the finest and most devastating shock troops that the Lylat System had ever seen, considering their seemingly inextinguishable fury and fighting prowess, which allowed them to take over an entire planet under the command of their tyrannical despot, General Scales. And if that was not enough in itself, this Sharpclaw evidenced by its mere appearance that it was so much more. With its muscular body still covered by the thick, hardened, and slightly olive green scales, which provided added natural protection in CQC-situations, its razor-sharp claws clasped firmly around the firing mechanism of the weapon and its eyes burning with a hatred which only a Sharpclaw could sport, this creature was similar to any other rank-and-file Sharpclaw grunt. But this was also where the noticeable similarities stopped.

The most striking difference was the various metallic components, which had been fitted at different places on its body and glimmered faintly with Solar's last rays, seemingly fused with the flesh and bone beneath the scales. Firstly, a contraption which looked like a rapid-firing wrist laser cannon had been implanted into the Sharpclaw's left wrist, giving it a much needed auxiliary weapon apart from its preferred mace for melee. Secondly, its skin seemed to bulge more outwards than it usually did, having a slightly silvery or metallic sheen to it. If one had time to perform a complete medical examination, one would find this minor abnormality to be caused by the thin layer of armour, which had been surgically added under the creature's skin. This would undoubtedly make the enhanced Sharpclaw extremely resilient in the face of conventional laser fire, but when confronted by the pulse blast of a Landmaster cannon, which was undeniably imminent, even Shield doubted that this added layer of flak armour could keep the abomination alive.

What could have made these changes to the physiology of the reptilian warrior, let alone why, completely eluded the competent human sergeant, at least for the time being. However, somewhere in his mind, he was also sure that the answer was to be found at some place on this very planet. But whatever the answer to this vexing scientific and biological enigma could be was to remain uncertain for the time being, since the extraterrestrial reptilian slowly let go of the plasma battery, turned its elongated head with the powerful jaw and fixed its dreadful and vicious gaze upon Shield and his hovering Landmaster. And this slight movement was all that Mikki needed to give his next order authoritatively.

"All units, open fire now!" Shield roared almost aggressively. And only after what seemed to the human sergeant like a millisecond, the loyal men had done their duty. The retaliation for the aggression of the pugnacious aliens and mutated Sharpclaw came swiftly in the form of a pernicious hail of light-green energy orbs, which were fired from the railgun-like barrels of the Landmaster-cannons, bright aglow with all of the devastating energy that a pulse blast could hold. The prodigiously powerful orbs of energy tore through the lethal weapons and their occupants with ease as they slammed down upon their designated spots on top of the mound, sending parts of machines, weapons and aliens flying like a grotesque release of confetti on a festive occasion. And as Mikki disengaged his boosters when he had drifted safely to the flat top of the mound, he realized with a broad smile finding its way to his otherwise harsh-looking visage that he and his squad indeed deserved this feeling of a job well done.

The simultaneous blasts from the thirty Landmasters had completely cleared the top of the mound of any enemy opposition, be it material or personnel. And as such, the mound had become an ideal vantage point and temporary rallying point for the advancing Cornerian troops to catch their breath a little and recuperate from the preliminary exhaustions of battle before moving on to the daring prospect of conquering two more mounds, which they knew were situated in the terrain some distance away from their current location.

As Shield eyed the windswept, dreary and bleak grey landscape, which stretched out from the mound as far as the eye could see until it reached the impediments of either mountains or gorges, the competent human sergeant was abruptly overcome with a strange feeling. Knowing that more hostile fortifications awaited him and his squad some distance ahead, he suddenly felt a shiver of uneasiness run down his spine; a feeling which he thought of as distinctly alien, since he had never before been daunted by the aspect of a military offensive. But then again, Mikki realized, mentally chiding himself for not reaching this conclusion earlier on, it was because this particular offensive was so much more than just that.

From being an ordinary rampage with the simple objective of obliteration of hostile entities, this battle had differed from normal campaigns in that it had proved very early on to be a battle not of sheer strength, but more of the significant awareness of oneself, one's surroundings and how they would respond to a given action. In short, a battle of flesh and mind instead of pure muscle. With all the strategy that needed to be taken into consideration now that the Lylatians were facing as prodigiously strong a foe as these aliens, one could not simply intrude violently upon the territory of these extraterrestrials. They had proved their mettle and strength during the space battle, making the Cornerians realize that they were in need of a different tactic than what was currently their standard, and as such, determining the battle with raw strength would only lead to a frightful and devastating outcome for one of the sides, the big loser here being the Cornerians, since the defenders could effortlessly reap the strategic benefits of a thoughtless charge on their home world, being in as splendid a defensive position as they were. However much this fact pained Shield, he also knew that he had no choice but to accept it, lest his pride overcome him and he lead his squad to a fatal destiny in an act of hubris.

Mikki was suddenly jolted out of the swirling limbo of his mental reverie when a gruff voice crackled through his comlink. Gaines had apparently found new and exciting information, judging from the rushed tone of voice in which he spoke, "Sir, my boys are ready to move out again. We haven't suffered any losses yet, and we've only sustained minor damage. In short, we haven't been hit enough to bring us to our knees, only to make us angry. How about you?" the Cornerian rhinoceros asked his superior jovially.

Shield quickly made a series of enquiring calls to his squad, and then reported back to Gaines in just as light-hearted a tone, "We're doing great, Harry! Thanks for asking! As you said, we've also just been angered a bit. Those alien scumbags have to try a lot harder if they're going to topple us!" he grinned brutally, but then returned to his normal calm demeanour as he queried further into the reason for Gaines' seemingly agitated tone of voice, "And by the way, Harry, what's so exciting? You sound like you and your boys have just found gold here or something!"

Gaines chuckled for a while as he heard that remark, but then elaborated on the sergeant's assumption, "Well, not gold, but something just as exciting as that. You've noticed those weird mutated Sharpclaw thingies, too, haven't you?" he asked, and continued upon hearing Mikki's affirmative response, "Well, we found a strange kind of people here as well. There's one at my position if you want to check them out. I've never seen anything like this here in Lylat before! They don't look like they're native to this system. You'd better check it, sir," the Cornerian sergeant urged his human colleague.

Curious to find out who or what Gaines had found, Shield fired up his engines slowly and drove across the mound, past the ruined gun batteries which now only stood as shameful smoking and decrepit shadows of their former self, bereft of the devastating power they once held, and the remains of Sharpclaw warriors that had been violently torn apart by the energy surge. The surgical implants, which sparkled in the flesh of torn-off arms or other limbs, had apparently not been enough to save them from the vicious onslaught of the Landmasters. And suddenly, Mikki was right next to Gaines' tank, looking down on the ground to see the creature that the rhinoceros had mentioned.

It was clad in a light grey battledress and sturdy boots, which blended in nicely with the dull colour of the surrounding terrain. The synthetic protective cladding almost covered the creature from head to toe, save for its head and the exposed mid-sections of its arms. Even though its anatomy was distinctly like that of a human, Shield could immediately conclude from the parts of its body, which were showing, that this creature – although humanoid in appearance – was definitely no human from Earth.

Firstly, its limbs were too long and slender to belong to a normal human, making the alien entity look as if it were in possession of an uncanny and unearthly dexterity and grace. Secondly, the skin which was lying tightly over the averagely muscled body of the extraterrestrial seemed, even in death, to glow with an extremely faint purple luminescence, which grazed its skin; another definite proof that this was no human. Its open and horror-stricken green eyes were glazed over by the characteristic blurry veil of death, its mouth wringed open in a silent scream of terror. In short, its face was the visualization of true horror and agony in the moment just before death, stiffened as it was like a grotesque mask of frozen fear placed atop its deceased bearer. Small droplets of blood streamed down its face from the eyes, nose and ears, their crimson streams being the visual results of the concussive shockwave, which had struck the defenders of the mound as the energy blast had connected.

Shield eyed the strange humanoid creature for quite some time, only being dimly aware of the look of incredulous bafflement, which conquered his facial features as he laid eyes upon the alien soldier. As he finally managed to summon the strength to speak up, his voice was hoarse and tentative with astonishment, "Wow! What the hell is that thing? I see why you're puzzled, Harry, and I'm really sorry about this, but I can't help you. This guy just looks plain weird. But he's no human, if that's what you're hinting at. Hell, I can see that with half an eye! But what I can't grasp is what he is if he isn't a human? Some alien race, maybe?"

This question, which he asked himself out loud as a natural part of his process of thinking, caused Mikki to reflect upon the appearance of the alien, and surprisingly enough, he remembered having seen an entity somewhere before with features, which bore an uncanny resemblance to this newly slain foe, albeit the enemy, which he remembered, differed in the aspect of having made surgical and cybernetic implants. But the purely anatomic part of it – the shining skin, the long limbs and so forth – could very well be an alien such as this one. After a contemplative pause in his stream of speaking, during which he recollected all the information, which his memory allowed him to retrieve about the cybernetic horrors, he decided to inform Harry about the occurrence.

"Hey, Harry, I don't know if you know the event that I've just remembered, but listen to this: During the massacre at Corneria a month ago, which you've perhaps heard of, some weird cyborgs called Exterminators were attacking the city. I fought them in the streets, and I've got to say that this one does look a bit like them, except this guy isn't a cyborg like they were… Nah, I don't know!" the sergeant mumbled tiredly, exhausted by the vexing nature of this physiological enigma.

Gaines spotted this tiredness through the cockpit window and cracked a wry smile of sympathy for Mikki, "Hey, sir, I understand how you're feeling right now. It must be a pain not being able to figure out why something's like it is, huh?" he asked, and continued after seeing the slight nod from Shield, "Well, whatever this thing is, I think we'll find out in due course. For now, let's just concentrate on blowing them all to Hell! Then we can always search for answers afterwards!" he exclaimed spiritedly.

And it seemed that this boost of resolve was all that Mikki needed to snap out of the web of dreary, depressive and discouraging stillness that had numbed his mind when he tried to search for an explanation to what this creature might be. Donning a wide smile on his face, he addressed the Cornerian rhinoceros energetically, "Hell yeah, you're right, Harry! Alright, guys, time to wake up, lock, load and prepare! We're moving out against the second mound!" And with that, the prodigious armoured division of thirty Cornerian Landmasters – some being slightly scorched and burnt by plasma shots here and there on the otherwise impeccably white and blue hull – began moving slowly and determinedly down the other side of the mound and continued across the landscape.

On their way towards the second hostile fortification, only very few words were shared. Namely because they were all so synchronically in tune and focused on the assignment that lay before them, none of the Cornerian troops felt the need to speak with one another, neither for comfort nor for status reports. It was as if a mutual consciousness or mental link had established itself between the members of the division, so that they were absolutely not in doubt about their goals or purpose… or the necessary price that one might ultimately pay in order to ensure Cornerian and Lylatian freedom from the dominating grasp of another race of megalomaniacal extraterrestrials: One's own life.

In fact, the only words that were spoken were the strictly objective ones from Gaines, which spewed from his lips as soon as he saw their next obstacle looming large ahead.

"All hands, be advised, Second fortification coming up!"

When compared to the first mound, this looked virtually impenetrable. Instead of just being a single elevation of the terrain, this mound appeared to be divided into three layers or tiers, which were seemingly formed from the way earth and rock had been arranged in order to build the barricade. Each tier was bristling with gun batteries and plasma emplacements, and the mound was scurrying with activity like an anthill. More of the strange mutated Sharpclaw and the alien foot soldiers stormed around to or from various places on the mound, indicating that this was a larger bastion of sorts. The armour, which had been placed on the outside of the massive barrier, indicated to some degree that there was possibly a hollow interior section of the mound, filled to the brim with supplies, additional personnel and God only knew what.

And these aliens did indeed have a talent, some sort of xenophobic sight, for spotting advancing material, which was not of their race, for even though the armoured division of Landmasters was still relatively far away, that did not hinder them from scurrying to their cannons and gun emplacements as soon as they took a hasty glance at the approaching formation. As Shield eyed this, his mind snapped out of the standstill, in which it had come to rest during the uneventful trip to the second mound. His well-trained and honed military mind-set took over, resulting in him bellowing an immediate order, just as the first prodigious rain of pernicious, multi-coloured energy descended upon the approaching Cornerians.

"All units, move out and fire at will!" he shouted as a direct order, resulting in the swift advance of the other Landmasters, greatly aided by the propulsion of their thrusters, as they retaliated with a barrage of their own highly charged viridian orbs of concentrated plasma energy, which soared flawlessly through the air and smashed profoundly against the hostile fortification. But the fight soon proved to be like a lone hero fighting a hydra, for whenever the Cornerians managed to blast the occupant of a gun emplacement, another one ran out from a small passageway within the mound and took his place, be it Sharpclaw or alien. And how matter how valiantly the Cornerians fought, the extraterrestrials now proved a resilient and cunning adversary, as their persistent unleashing of energy resulted in the immediate obliteration of two of Gaines' men, their dying screams lingering in Mikki's ears as their bodies were engulfed in the ball of ferocious flame, which devoured their tanks like wrathful elemental spirits.

Astounded by the ireful nature and unquenchable anger of the alien defenders, Mikki swiftly realized as he manoeuvred his Landmaster around on the battlefield, dodging impending laser bolts as he went and counterattacked, that the Cornerians were in dire need of some help from above; help in the most literal sense, which did not involve divine intervention, but merely raw firepower. Not thinking twice about his newly made decision, Shield pressed the button for his comlink.

"Ghost! Do you read me? We've reached the second mound, but those alien bastards are much tougher than we thought. They've already taken out two of us, goddammit! We need some air support, now!" the sergeant shouted gruffly and desperately into the comlink for his other human friend to hear in the void a long distance above him.

---

Above the obscuring cover of the greying skies on the planet, the battle was not going particularly better. In fact, the Cornerians were also here faced with an opponent, whose strength and tactical prowess they had clearly underestimated, despite all of their seemingly fool-proof precautions before this critical offensive.

The copper-hued alien cruisers had pressed the charge from almost the very first second of the battle, as if they were persistent stingrays claiming their territory in the sea from another race of fish. The only thing that made this phenomenon different was that it played itself out in the non-aquatic environment of the eternal Lylatian void, and that the alien cruisers were not organic entities, but merely constructs piloted by proficient pilots with relentless minds.

At first, the Cornerian cruisers had tried to hold the line by sending out a noticeable fighter contingent to hopefully hold the advancing hostile forces at bay, while The Monolith prepared to make its daring run through the frontline of their enemy. But when the only thing that the Cornerians were met with was the sundering hail of highly energized purple plasma-fire from the alien fighters as well as cruisers, the Cornerians begrudgingly realized the impending danger that they were in if they continued to stand staunchly up against the alien aggressors, which resulted in the fighter squadrons from The Valaria and The Monolith giving ground reluctantly. Even the valiantly fighting Team Star Fox, whose Arwings stood out from between the white and coppery blur of ships by their experienced and routine way of flying, did not seem to have an easy time at all fending off the ferocious alien fighter craft as they lunged at the brave Cornerian pilots.

Amidst the interstellar inferno, there was one pilot in particular, who was greatly shocked and amazed by the true display of anger and rage, which this battle had indeed become. Wrenching her Arwing around in a tight sweep in order to shake the persistent pursuer that clung relentlessly to her tail, purplish plasma fire raining down upon her craft, Krystal could not at all understand how in the world the aliens could be motivated to fight so fiercely and remorselessly. Her momentary perceptions of the mental thought patterns of the extraterrestrials revealed nothing to her but unquenchable and primordial anger towards the "impudent species", which she assumed was the Cornerians, which tried so brutally to intrude upon the home world of these aliens.

As she dodged and weaved gracefully in order to try and lose her tenacious pursuer, Krystal thought that it would be best to save the answering of such intriguing a conundrum for later, reminded as she was of the current threat by the plasma beams that riddled her craft from seemingly all sides. The young cerulean vixen knew that this was one of those times where pure flying skill would not prove adequate in order to get rid of this newly obtained pest. Flicking on her comlink, she cried hectically into it for assistance, her first avenue of salvation being her beloved vulpine team-mate.

"Fox, I've got an enemy on my tail, and he's starting to become quite a problem. Couldn't you be a dear and get him off?" she asked sweetly, maintaining her love for Fox even amidst the uncontrollable pandemonium of battle. But unfortunately, the answer that came back proved to be much to her dismay.

"Sorry, Krys, I can't. I've got my hands full over here as well!" Fox stated anxiously as his glimmering white Arwing flittered past her window, spraying viridian laser bolts at a fleeing coppery alien craft while at the same time trying to stay clear of the vicious blaze of purple plasma fire, which originated from the three fighters that clung to him like flies on fly paper.

Realizing that not even her loved one was capable of aiding her in this threatening predicament, Krystal grimaced sourly and gritted her teeth in exasperation as she swung her Arwing around in yet another tight arc to avoid obliteration, as the alien behind her let loose with another violent flurry of plasma fire. She just caught herself reminiscing about how it would be to have Jakob with her in the field before a cheery voice sounded over her comlink:

"Got yourself stuck with an enemy again, huh Krystal? Well, I can fix that!"

Swinging her head around in order to see the vessel, from which the message had been transmitted, the young Cerinian saw the Arwing of her newfound friend Cain as it swooped in from the right, effectively cleaving the alien ship in two as he opened up with a devastating barrage of Cornerian laser fire. To the astonished cerulean vixen, it almost looked as if the alien ship tore itself apart instantaneously; so swift was the annihilation of her opponent.

Looking through the cockpit window of the newly arrived Arwing, Krystal saw Cain's familiar lupine visage donning an overjoyed grin, as if he were not the least bit worried about the calamitous endeavour, which the Cornerian fleet had just undertaken. Right now, it seemed that all that mattered to him was to be able to rescue his friend of the Star Fox Team. And Krystal wasted not a moment of precious time before she complimented him for his daring manoeuvre.

"Thank you very much, Cain! That was quite an impressive shot!" the cerulean vixen smiled warmly, receiving a hasty "thumbs up" from Cain in return before he started to speak to her as the two flittered about the battlefield in search of more targets or allies in need of aid.

"Nah, Krystal, don't mention it. It's the least I could do for you after you chose to accept me on your squad when we headed out for the Venomians. You see, during a battle, it's all about constructing a bond of friendship between yourself and another one, with whom you fit very well and who's special to you. And I daresay that you're special to me… in more than one way… so let's keep up this friendly connection before the tides of battle… or some other unfortunate occurrence… severs it for eternity, shall we?"

During his speech as she flew alongside him, Krystal noticed the slender and cunning face of the lupine recruit assume a glum and brooding expression. His entire demeanour also changed from the lively and joyful one to a dark and depressed state. And when she combined that with the slightly ominous statements about the breaking of their friendship and the fact that she was special to him "in more than one way", which he mentioned in a dark tone, there was no doubt in the mind of the cerulean vixen that Cain was plagued by severely conflicting feelings. But when she discreetly probed his mind to find out, the swirling limbo of mental hazes was too confusing for her to get a precise indication of what it was that tormented him. But in fleeting glimpses, the Cerinian did sense something: Rage, pain, anger, doubt… maybe even a pang of malicious guilt for some unknown reason.

"Cain… what's wrong? What's happened to you all of a sudden?" Krystal asked her companion tentatively as both vessels veered simultaneously in order to plot a new course, "I get really worried when you talk like that! And what's all this nonsense about our friendship being severed for eternity? You know it's only in the most extreme of circumstances that something like that could happen!"

To her astonishment, the lupine changed his expression and demeanour in under a second; from the gloomy one that currently occupied him and back to the lively and spirited ally, whom she had come to know, as he replied to her anxious query, "Oh, I'm fine, Krystal; don't worry about it. It's just that I haven't quite gotten a soldier's nerves yet, so I'm still a little jumpy, I guess!" he grinned convincingly to her before he lowered his voice to a more confidential tone, "Oh, and about the friendship thing, I think you'd better revalidate your optimistic view a bit. I may not have learned all of the tricks of the military trade yet, but what I do know is that life itself can be extremely treacherous. You never know what sort of heart-breaking realization it might throw at you in the midst of battle. Think about it!" Cain said with a strange wry smile playing across his muzzle before he blasted off with a "See you!" to help a group of Arwings in a pinch.

As Cain's words started to sink into her mind, the cerulean vixen found herself shuddering momentarily from emotional discomfort. As much as she had begun to trust Cain with her life, these newly said ominous words of his added to the very same feeling of discomfort and insecurity that she had felt during her initial encounter with him in the Great Fox hangar. At that time, she got the feeling that his personality was not stable, and that it could be easily influenced by skilful individuals, who were well-versed in the malicious arts of deceit and treachery. But on the other hand, Krystal chided herself; she could not tolerate herself for blaming a guy who had already displayed amazing skills just to defend her from harm ever since she had accepted him onto her squad. He was probably just one of those perpetually pessimistic types, although his sudden shifts in mood did worry her a bit. Shaking her head slightly to get rid of these cobwebs of nagging worries that had accumulated themselves in her mind, the young Cerinian looked around the battlefield with clear emerald eyes.

The first thing she spotted was of course Fox, as he still struggled intensely with getting rid of his alien pursuers. Quickly deciding on a course of action, Krystal fired up her rear afterburners and sped towards the location of her love. Fox had managed to obliterate the ship in front of him, but the three other fighters still clung to his tail, slowly but surely draining his shields with their continuous barrage of purple plasma fire. Like a hawk striking at its prey, Krystal's ship zoomed in from above and let loose a salvo of pernicious bright green laser fire, which tore through the coppery hulls of the alien fighters effortlessly, making them explode on the spot and turn into three more interstellar vapour trails.

Fox quickly brushed the sweat of anxiety from his brow and cracked a smile at Krystal as she laid her ship alongside his, "Thanks, Krys! Phew, that was hairy, I tell you. They almost drained my shields. I had so much left!" the golden-furred vulpine chuckled, squeezing his thumb and index finger together to illustrate just how tiny a fraction of his shield, which was still operational after the continuous barrage.

"Well, knowing your uncanny luck, my love, even such a small fraction of the shield would be enough to save you!" Krystal grinned reassuringly at him before the two vessels assumed similar courses out into the heat of battle again. But before they reached the swirling, multicoloured metallic haze of combating ships, Krystal took the time to ask Fox about a thing, which had slowly begun to manifest itself in her mind and grow in intensity, like a seed from a mental tree slowly starting to grow and flourish.

"Fox… I know this may sound silly or paranoid, but… how large do you think that the risk is for the Cornerian Army to be corrupted by… dubious individuals?" she asked tentatively, formulating her anxious and otherwise harsh query as a mild euphemism, very true to her kind-hearted nature.

"What? You mean traitors, psychopaths and the like?" Fox asked just as dumbstruck, and continued upon seeing the young Cerinian nod in affirmation, "Well, if it's any comfort, I know for a fact that it's not very large, practically non-existent. Every new recruit receives tests specifically made to sort out such individuals before they're even accepted into the Army. Why do you ask, Krys?" the golden-furred vulpine asked the cerulean vixen enquiringly.

"Oh, it's nothing, Fox. I just sat and mused to myself that being as large an institution as the Cornerian Army is, it'd be strange if one or two such individuals didn't slip by the precautions every once in a while," Krystal replied calmly, excellently hiding the quavering note of worry, which would otherwise have been present in her remark, were she not able to control her feelings as expertly as she was. And it seemed that Fox did not hear this, either, for out of the window, she saw him merely cast a curious glance at her, before his facial features softened up in a warm smile.

"Alright, Krys. That's fair enough. But I just want you to know something: No matter what plagues you, no matter what problems we're facing, don't let yourself be dragged down by all of that. As I've said to you before, just live your life to its fullest, every single day. If you don't do that, you'll never have time to appreciate all the good moments for what they are when the bad times do come. Okay, Krystal?" Fox asked her demandingly.

"Yeah, Fox. I know that, and I'll remember it. Count on it, my love!" the Cerinian reassured her beloved team-mate. But in actuality, the reassuring note in her remark was just her emotional deftness influencing her speech yet again. Inside her mind, she was both concerned and furious. Concerned because the words that Fox had just spoken as an advice to her, "live your life to its fullest", had almost become a dictum for the golden-furred vulpine whenever he answered her musings about a given and slightly dangerous situation, almost as if he just put her mental worries aside with this standardized phrase.

And Krystal was furious at him for just that reason, because she got the feeling that – when he replied as hastily and unwaveringly with this phrase as he did just now – he was hiding some possible pain from her, and would not let her in on his eventual emotional torment. It pained her to the core of her very being, and made her rage bubble inside like molten lava, because she thought Fox in possession of the knowledge that she would do everything in her power to help him overcome such emotional terror, but when he just wiped her concern away like that, she felt powerless, unable to do anything at all to help her loved one.

Gripping the control column of her Arwing tightly in irritation, vexed as she was by this elusive enigma of the soul, Krystal found herself staring out into the pitch-black void of space, her delicate cerulean vulpine visage and emerald eyes briefly illuminated by the flashes of passing laser beams. And again, the young cerulean vixen found her thoughts straying to her human friend, who was normally always there to lend a helping hand, should she be confronted by a problem, which she could not solve herself by pure judgement. And this was one of those times, but contrary to her previous experiences, the individual in question was not by her side in battle as he usually was; he was in charge of an operation on a much larger scale than her petty worries. Inwardly acquiescing to the painstaking veracity of this fact, Krystal did yet catch herself mumbling out some sort of soft-spoken prayer or urge to her friend under her breath.

"Ghost… Jakob, my dear friend… where are you, now that I need you the most?" she muttered worriedly. But this thought of and yearning for her human friend proved to be merely evanescent, as the young Cerinian soon found herself faced by the undeniable reality of battle when she veered sharply in order to evade yet another fierce hail of purple plasma fire from a group of approaching alien ships.

---

In actuality, Jakob was not as far away as Krystal felt that he was. Had she turned her head a bit more to the left when she darted around the battlefield anxiously in her ship in order to lose her new relentless pursuers, she might have been able to make out the shadowy form of him standing near the window on the bridge of The Valaria, calmly surveying the situation.

Although he had initially demonstrated notable tactical prowess and expertise during the Venomian campaign and also at the beginning of this conflict, Jakob had seemingly not anticipated the ferocity, with which these aliens fought their unrelenting offensive. In his coldly calculating process of laying out an optimal strategy, Ghost had apparently not considered the valid fact that feelings and fervent ideals can be equally as powerful a weapon in a conflict as state-of-the-art weaponry. Because of this, the alien fighters and cruisers had gained ground relatively quickly since the first shot was fired, moving into a more and more advantageous position as time passed, albeit with the Cornerians still doing their utmost to prevent the aliens from going any further. And as such, silently acquiescing to the harsh reality and bitter taste of his partly failed strategy, the otherwise so sagacious commander had seemingly met his match, at least in part, in this vicious conflict.

As he stood and watched Krystal's Arwing flitter hectically around on the battlefield in order to avoid her relentless pursuers, Jakob muttered an almost inaudible prayer in Latin for her safety under his breath, while at the same time trying to estimate the probable outcomes of taking certain actions, which he mulled about in his head as possible solutions.

"_Pax ticum_, Krys. May peace be with you!" he murmured quietly as he thought about the undeniable perils, which she might be facing out there in the void. But his train of thought was quickly derailed, and his wayward mind was immediately brought back to reality, when Kyra informed him of an incoming transmission.

"Sir, commander Bennett requests permission for The Monolith to begin their attack run, but they'll need some cover from us in order to break through the front line. Perhaps we should fire at one of the enemy flagships as a distraction? If we're lucky enough to hit a critical spot, then it'll also help to relieve our pilots a bit!" the arctic vixen informed her human superior energetically, despite the sporadic purple plasma bolts that struck the shields of The Valaria every once in a while, making the otherwise invisible energy barrier shimmer with a colourful blur as it absorbed and neutralized the blasts of lethal energy.

But contrary to what everyone had expected, Ghost did not take kindly to Kyra's obvious effervescence in the midst of battle, presumably because of the large amount of stress that he was presently facing, with the enemy gaining ground swiftly. Now that his strategy had been reduced to mere shambles, he desperately tried to conceive yet another impeccable plan, which would allow the Cornerians to regain their normally advantageous position on the battlefield. Heaving an unusually sharp and irritated sigh, Jakob turned around resolutely with a flick of his heel and eyed his Lylatian radar-analyst coldly.

"As much as I thought that my orders were indisputably unequivocal, it now seems that this isn't the case, so I'll explain it again just for your sake, ensign: Neither of the ships will do anything at all unless my explicit order is given. I have yet to estimate the probable outcomes of each action that we can take, and in order for that estimation to be optimal, it'll take some time of careful and meticulous planning. So just relax and wait for one minute!" he said sharply, his voice containing an audible and unusually sharp edge of anger or irritation as Ghost turned back towards the window.

Williams, the silvery-furred wolf and weapons officer who was second in command, eyed his commanding officer with a sympathetic gaze as he spoke up, evidently trying to calm the suddenly ireful spirit of his commander, "Sir, I understand your frustration, but if we don't act now, the enemy will have us pinned in no time! You can see how fast they're already advancing, and since our fighters obviously aren't enough to hold them, we have to use other means of winning. The IPCs are primed and ready to go, along with the torpedoes. Please, think of something, sir. Anything other than this stalemate!" he pleaded softly, appealing to the innermost common sense of the young leather-clad human before him.

And it seemed that this softly spoken plea helped to douse the flames of vexation within Jakob's soul, for he turned around yet again. But this time he was not staring daggers at his crew; his eyes were only radiating pure regret, and when he spoke, his voice was not sharp and piercing as a lance, but merely heavy and troubled with exhaustion, "Yes, lieutenant-commander. You're right; of course you are. It's just… I don't want this offensive to end in disaster, merely because I hadn't thought everything through to begin with. There's a responsibility resting upon my shoulders, the size and importance of which I've never experienced before. But of course you're right; I should think of at least something to get us out of this impasse. But before I do, I just want to apologize to you, Ensign Hawthorne, for my being so angry with you just before. It's not your fault that I'm in this position, and it never will be. I'm sorry," the commander said softly and in an admitting tone as he looked at Kyra, who merely gave him a wave of the hand and a warm smile, meaning for him to let it slip and not think about it, since she realized that he had acted out of frustration and not out of anger, and as such did not mean the things he had said.

But just as she had made that realization, her comlink began to beep frantically with an incoming call. Swiftly looking over the designation of the coordinates, Kyra furrowed her snow-white brow in silent wonderment, as she noticed that these coordinates were not coordinates from space, but coordinates from the planet instead. Putting on her headphones, she heard the call, obscured as it was by static and the interference of highly powered energized shots in the background. When the brief transmission had ended, the young arctic vixen looked at Ghost, who was engrossed in strategic talk with Williams and Jackson.

"Sir, this call just came in. I think you'd better hear this!" she stated anxiously before she put the transmission on speaker. And in an instant, Mikki's hectic call for aid echoed on the bridge of The Valaria, "Ghost! Do you read me? We've reached the second mound, but those alien bastards are much tougher than we thought. They've already taken out two of us, goddammit! We need some air support, now!" And then, the message abruptly ended in an obscuring hiss of static before Kyra deftly turned it off, leaving nothing but the ensuing silence to resonate on the bridge of the Cornerian cruiser.

Now instantly being tasked with solving two pressing matters, Jakob closed his eyes and considered the new onerous dilemma, which he had been placed in. He needed to ensure that the Cornerian fleet broke out of the tedious standstill, into which it had been forced by the charge of the relentless aliens, and not only that; now he also had to help his dear friend on the surface, in order to ensure his survival as well. Ghost stood as if he were petrified for a long time, estimating the possible scenarios within his head: Refusing to aid Shield in order to help the fleet instead would be tantamount to letting him and his men die right there and then. But on the other hand, helping him and neglecting the Cornerian fleet would mean the utter annihilation of the finest members of a Lylatian defence force, letting the Cornerians suffer innumerable casualties. His biggest problem was that the weapons, with which The Valaria was currently equipped, were not scientifically optimized to strike at ground targets…

"_Well, not the torpedoes at least!"_ Jakob suddenly thought, a grim smile finding its way across his face with the slightly aquiline features as an absurd idea manifested itself in his mind. Under normal circumstances, he would have instantly rejected the idea as being completely ludicrous, but these were far from normal circumstances. Turning around a third time to face his crew, they now saw the distinct glow of resolve spark in his eyes as the commander began to lay out his impromptu plan.

Instantly, he fixed his gaze on the silvery-furred wolf at the weapon controls, "Williams, you said that the IPCs were primed and ready to go? Well, here's my next order. Although this may seem rash or untraditional, I've given it some thought, and I believe that it might prove to be the most expedient solution to this little conundrum: Set the IPCs to fire at precisely these coordinates!" he ordered, giving the lieutenant-commander the coordinates from Mikki's last transmission.

Upon hearing this, Williams checked with the planetary map, which was on a small screen next to him on the control panel, before his eyes widened considerably in astonishment, "But sir, those are land coordinates! The IPCs are made as a ship-to-ship weapon. Don't say that you expect me to fire them down into the enemy fortification down there!" he said sceptically, giving his superior a queer glance. And just as he expected deep down, Ghost gave a content grin of satisfaction and nodded sagely.

"Your celerity of mind is commendable, lieutenant-commander, for that's exactly what I intend to do!" he said, and continued with a further elucidation upon seeing the still sceptical look in Williams' eyes, "You know, under normal circumstances, I'd be feeling just as flabbergasted as you. Using a ship-to-ship weapon against ground targets… that seems like complete nonsense, right? But what you must understand here is that fate has put me in a two-edged dilemma. If I refuse to help my friend on the surface and help the fleet instead, he and his men will be doomed, and that'd cause me much grief. On the other hand, if I help him, the fleet will be doomed. As you see, I'm pretty much in a pinch in this vexatious predicament. So tell me: How does one weigh the question of lives in peril versus scientific exactitude? Life prevails, of course!" Ghost said with a sinister smile of glee before he let his gaze sweep around the rest of his crew and continued his speech, his distinctive British accent shining through.

"Furthermore, these aren't normal circumstances, so in a way, I feel entitled to try and circumvent the otherwise rigid rules of science in order to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak!" he grinned before looking at Kyra, "Hawthorne, could I please speak to my friend down there?" he asked and spoke into the microphone and headset – which he always carried on his head as his standard comlink – after she had pressed a few buttons, which patched The Valaria through to Shield, "Hey Shield! I heard your shout for help just before, and preparations to help you guys are being taken by my crew as we speak. One round of death and destruction coming your way, dude!" the young commander said slyly and terminated the connection after he had heard Mikki's relieved reply, "Thanks, man!"

When he had made sure that the connection was completely dead, Jakob gave Kyra another order as well, "Now ensign, get a hold of Bennett on The Monolith, and tell him that he can begin his run. We'll cause some commotion in the enemy ranks, alright?" he asked sharply, and – after he had heard Kyra's affirmative answer – turned back to Williams, "Okay, Williams, here's the next step. This way, we'll be able to help both Mikki and the fleet simultaneously: When you've set the IPCs to align with the planetary coordinates, prepare to launch a Star Slayer, Class IV. Aim it at the right wing of the left cruiser in the middle of their formation. With any luck, the ensuing explosion and EMP-shockwave will be enough to severely damage them, and perhaps even destroy one of them. Understood?" he asked enquiringly, and smiled widely with satisfaction as the silvery-furred wolf gave him a cheerful response.

As the last thing before his plan was in motion, Ghost looked at Jackson at the piloting controls, "Jackson, accelerate to three-quarters of optimal cruise speed and glide forwards nicely and quietly. We don't want them to suspect that an immediate attack is underway. But at the same time, we'd like a fair chance to defend ourselves under the cover of our fighters when they do find out, right?" he said jokingly to the elderly canine, who flashed his fangs at him in a wicked grin.

"I hear you, sir. Firing up the engines!" he growled in his characteristically gruff voice. But when the ship had begun to move steadily forwards after the mighty lurch which always initiated sudden movement with the cruiser, indicating that the engines awoke from their dormant state, Jackson looked at Jakob questioningly, "I must admit that this is something of a plan, sir. Are you sure it'll work?" the canine pilot asked incredulously, and was answered by a simple shrug from the human commander, who had yet again turned to observe the ever-changing tides of the battle.

"Given a modicum of luck, it should indeed work, lieutenant," he answered affirmatively before he smiled a glum smile in realization of his next remark, "And if it doesn't, I'll just have to figure something else out, won't I?"

---

As the sky grew perpetually darker over the ragged landscape of the alien home world, any onlooker who stood on the ground and looked up would not be met by the comforting pale light of the stars gleaming at him from above. Instead, the sky was slowly turning an inky dark blue, a colour which – despite its magnificent hue – held some shadowy undertones of impending doom or disaster. Given the unnatural gravitational anomaly of the planet, and the fact that it did not have a conventional equinoctial cycle, night appeared to be rushing in much faster than it really should, at least judging from the opinion that the deployed Cornerian troops had of day and night. And perhaps this ill foreboding was well attributed to the ominous night sky, for through the layers of ineffable darkness descended a single luminous object, which – despite its lustrous outer appearance – housed death at its very core.

The metallic drop pod holding the contingent of Cornerian marines under the capable guidance of John – the only human who had ever accompanied Cornerian marines on an assignment as dangerous as this – reflected the violent, swirling fires of the atmosphere in its glimmering metallic armour plating as it plummeted right through the air, heading straight for a clearing in the otherwise dense belt of jungle, which covered the continent. The clearing was a suitable distance from what appeared to be an alien headquarter of some sort, at least judging by the preliminary readings, which the life-form scanning aboard The Valaria had shown. Thus, the marines would not drop down right on top of their enemy, and could then eliminate the risk of their position being compromised upon landing.

As the marine drop pod approached the ground swiftly, its heat shields still enduring despite the hellish temperature that the blazing friction against the atmosphere caused, a slightly translucent tail of incandescent flame began to travel in its wake, underlining its trajectory in the sky, making it resemble an artificial comet of sorts. And finally, this deadly metallic meteorite broke through the upper branches of the trees unhindered, actually setting them slightly ablaze with its glowing tip, before it plunged firmly into the ground with a resonating slam, making dirt, pebble and other forms of debris spray up from the ground surrounded by the last dying halo of atmospheric flame, like a fountain of the elements. And in the seconds thereafter, the drop pod just stood there like a titanic metallic spear plunged solidly into the ground by a giant, who had left it there for centuries. Nothing stirred for several seconds after the impact, and slowly, this ensuing silence gave way for the natural stillness to be restored. That is, only until the marines deemed it safe to show themselves.

With an audible and mechanical whirr, a hatch slowly opened in the side of the pod, and just a moment afterwards, a gaunt human head peeked out from the reddish-tinted interior of the delivering mechanism, the unnatural crimson radiance caused by the flickering lights inside. Assuring himself and the others that no hostile activity was present in the immediate vicinity, John jumped the short way down from the opening and onto the ground clad in his usual apparel; his blaster in its holster, Ragetooth in its leather sheath on his back, and his Kamikaze-cap on his head. But despite his otherwise impeccably agile nature, he did not land smoothly and gracefully this time, but rather in a most wobbly way, disorientated as he was by the sudden and turbulent experience of a Fast Atmospheric Descent.

As Mason, the crimson falcon, appeared in the doorway as the next to jump out of the metallic craft, Saber cast a weary glance over his shoulder at the Lylatian and said sarcastically in a voice that was somewhat slurred by a very slight degree of nausea, "Man, why didn't I take the bus? That's so much easier than this atmosphere dumping thing. And I just want you to know that what you told me about how it feels… is absolutely true!" the human lieutenant smiled wryly to Mason, earning himself a grin from the avian scout as he and the other marines joined them on the ground, swiftly unpacking their armaments and forming a file in front of their captain Reynolds. .

"Yeah, yeah, drop the praising! I know that I'm always right!" Mason said complacently, albeit with the perpetual touch of irony in his voice, before Reynolds, the reserved tiger captain, who was originally in command of the group, took over authoritatively, seeing as his men had already deployed themselves at the mission site. He started out with a brisk "ahem" and then continued to reel off his instructions and orders, evidently not caring in the least about the fact that John had in reality been instituted as the new commanding officer by General Pepper.

"Right. I see that you're all assembled, Spectres", Reynolds droned, letting his cool and calculating gaze sweep over his Lylatian troops, "but don't think for one minute that you can just put your brain on autopilot and do it like you always do. This offensive is critical to the success of the Cornerian Army, and essential to the survival and freedom of the Cornerian race as a whole. We're expected to gain entry to the enemy compound and take them out from within, so that's what we'll do. Failure is not an option here, people, so exercise extreme caution."

He paused for a moment, wanting to make sure that his instructions had gone through clearly, and continued laying out his plan without casting as much as a fleeting glance in Saber's direction, "Now, as for the formation, Mason will take point. Our new "CO" will stick to his hip, and I'll be slightly behind the two. Cosby, you'll be our middle defence and act as a front cover for Lamont, also. Lamont, you should keep to the back in a position where you've still got a clear field of fire. And Anderson will be our rear guard. We've got no definite info on any hostile activity, patrol routes or garrisons whatsoever, so you'd better keep your wits about you and watch your backs when we head into that overgrown forest. Everyone clear?" Reynolds enquired gruffly for the sake of acting like the responsible commander that he also was.

But it did indeed seem as if a particular individual among his ranks was not in the mood to agree with his plan; namely the young human lieutenant who had in actuality been given command of the marine-contingent. With a hint of a mocking or condescending note in his voice, John voiced his dissatisfaction with the captain's plan in a rude sneer, "No, "sir", I'm not clear. If I remember correctly, I was the one who'd been given command of this entire operation, not you!" he spat, but then his fury dissipated as he realized the strategic excellence of the plan, which Reynolds had conceived, "But… even though I'm in charge, I'll say your plan's quite nice. I can't see anything wrong with it, so let's do this!" he exclaimed spiritedly, which only provoked a curt nod from Reynolds.

"Alright, then. Form up, people!" the tiger ordered authoritatively, and within the space of only a few heartbeats, the group of marines had lined themselves up in their appropriate positions and began moving through the dense foliage stealthily. Mason was at the front of the group with Saber at his side. Three paces behind them was Reynolds with his SMG drawn and ready, while the panther Cosby made up the middle of the group, his large automatic blaster rifle drawn and at the ready, eyes narrowed in intense concentration as he sighted down the length of the weapon. A bit further back came the lioness Lamont, who had her Cornerian sniper rifle out, but was not actively looking through it or using it, but merely holding it so she could whip it up in front of her eyes, should the need arise. And finally, the husky Anderson trotted along behind all of the others, keeping a vigilant eye on the terrain they had just traversed in case the enemy would conduct an ambush, his laser assault rifle trained on even the least of movements in the surrounding terrain.

As the team moved quietly through the jungle like a bunch of softly treading shadows because of their lissom nature, their completely black armour and their wary demeanour, John could not help but feel a little bit in awe as he traversed this unknown and alien terrain. In the dwindling light of the day, which coloured the sky and the surroundings an ethereal shade of blue while they still maintained their original lush green, the large and imposing trees that loomed on either side of them with wide and leafy crowns almost resembled organic beings when the slight breeze made them sway gently from side to side with a calm and rustling sound. On more than one occasion, it happened that the breeze blew a vine from one of the trees at Saber's shoulder, which would immediately make him flinch in a sudden burst of alertness before he sharply turned to see which alien appendage that had startled him, but when he saw that is was only a vine, he would relax yet again and move on, provoking some extremely quiet laughter from Mason at his side.

As he let his gaze sweep across the trees yet again in search of hostiles, John simultaneously realized what a cool assignment he had been given here. He was trudging through unknown land accompanied by some of the finest individuals, which the Cornerian Army had to offer, and the location which they had been sent to was not undesirable at all, not the benighted globe which it had indeed seemed like from space. The air was mildly tempered, balmy and fragrant; it probably contained an extremely wide spectrum of smells from an equally as wide spectrum of growths, which was to be found in this area of lush vegetation, if one only took one's time. But much to his own astonishment, John realized that he did indeed have a job to do; they had no time to be going around sniffing to flowers. Nevertheless, he was extremely glad to have been sent here in the first place with these people, and the whole aspect of this assignment and the world in itself made an inexplicable twinge of ineffable joy well up inside the young human, as he yet again idly scanned his surroundings, his blaster instinctively travelling in his line of sight like he had been taught to do it at the Cornerian Fleet Academy, when he and his friends first came to Lylat seven months ago.

Saber was so lost in his reminiscing of past days and the obvious marvels, which this seemingly unspoiled world of nature had to offer, that he accidentally bumped into Mason. Startled as he was by the sudden collision with his team-mate, John was about to open his mouth and snarl out a condescending exclamation, when he noticed that the crimson falcon had raised his right wing slightly and did not move an inch himself. Stupefied as he was, Saber did realize in time that this pose was a signal to cease movement for everyone in the group; and rightly so, for when he looked back, he saw that every other member of the Spectres had also frozen solid, almost resembling statues of obsidian, as rigid and tense as they were. Mason had obviously heard something, which had eluded the others, and which might very well indicate possible danger. Upon seeing this, John chose to freeze as well, dropping into an attentive crouch both to be alert and to throw himself down in the undergrowth and hide if necessary.

Mason gradually relaxed his rigid stance, whereupon he grabbed a pair of night vision goggles at his hip and placed them over his eyes. Silently and smoothly, the scout turned to the right and scanned the surroundings with his new pair of luminous green eyes. After he had completed his search, he turned his head towards the rest of the group to relay what he had seen.

"We've got company!" the crimson avian whispered excitedly, "Two tangos, moving on our right flank!" Mason used the standard military phrase for enemy, and of course – being the seasoned soldiers that they were – everyone understood what he was trying to say, for each of them immediately dropped into a slight crouch like John, their poses tense and rigid while they scanned the area to their right with their weapons carefully, their now equipped night vision goggles glowing a luminescent green where their eyes should have been. After having assured himself of the position of their enemy, Mason lent Saber his goggles, so that the human could hopefully catch a glimpse of the hostiles. But of course, as it was almost to be expected, it was the individual with the keenest eyes, who spotted the advancing troops first.

"I see them!" Lamont suddenly whispered sharply and in an agitated tone, "Two patrolling tangos to the northwest, in between the tall and slim trees" Energetically swinging his head to the place, which the lioness sniper had designated, John hoped to see who they were currently facing. He found the trees relatively early, but had to wait a bit before he saw the horrid enemy in all its deformity and malice.

Out from amongst the trees, two misshapen creatures came trudging through the undergrowth. They were definitely humanoid in appearance, but that was when every possible reason for comparing them to humans stopped. Firstly, their limbs were too long, spindly and thin to actually be truly human, but what also made them stand out were all the modifications, which had been made to them. Even in the monotonous greenish blur that the night vision goggles produced, various cybernetic implants located at different places on their bodies seemed to glimmer with a metallic light.

The set of implantations was certainly deadly, even when judging from first impressions: A rapid-firing laser machine gun, which had somehow been attached to the wrist of their right hands, and a large fist of shiny steel and chrome, through which a sparkling electrical current was running. The sparks this gave off could easily be seen even with night vision. But the most bizarre thing about them was undoubtedly their heads. From the neck and up they resembled "normal" human beings, but the tops of their heads were encased in what seemed to be a large dome or helmet of shiny metal. All of this, when combined with the stiff and rigid way, in which they walked and the vacant, glass-like nature of their unmoving eyes, made it very easy to deduce that these horrific shock troops were some kind of technologically enhanced alien cyborgs.

And what was more; they presented a very well known appearance to John. For him, it was almost like being reunited with someone, whom one has not seen in a long time, and whom one has only a hazy image of in one's head. But as Saber saw these abominations of science keeping guard in the jungle, his hazy image instantly became clear, illuminated by the scorching mental light of painful recognition.

"Holy hell!" he muttered amazedly under his breath before he spoke up to indulge his team-mates in his thoughts, "I've seen these guys once before. Do you remember that big massacre-thing, which happened at Corneria a month ago?" Upon seeing their affirmative nods, John continued, "Well, I don't know how much you were briefed on what happened there, but I was fighting in the streets myself. And these guys look exactly like the ones who invaded Corneria! Exterminators, I think they called them. Could it be…?" he mused aloud, undoubtedly trying to figure out who was the culprit behind all this. But before he could deduce anything satisfactory, Reynolds whispered an order.

"Well, it might be that you're right, but in any case, we can't afford any slip-ups just because you want to start your own little investigation to see if they were indeed the ones that attacked Corneria, which I've got an inexplicable feeling that you do. Too much is at stake here, people, so let's play it by the numbers. Lamont, take them out, and do it fast before they can sound an alert to compromise our position!"

The lioness sniper nodded, laid down against the soft soil so that she resembled nothing more than an insubstantial shadow in the night, and slipped her rifle out in front of her. But as she began to adjust her pose and aim, Saber stopped them again, "Whoa, whoa, guys, hold on a sec, okay? That thing there wouldn't work. I doubt that even you, Lamont, with your skills, could manage to take those two out in time. They're too far away from each other for you to hit both of them, before one of them realizes that something's wrong."

The human lieutenant made a contemplative pause, screwing his face up in an effort of utmost concentration, before he suddenly smiled a wide smile and resumed the presentation of his newly minted plan, "Tell you what, guys… Why don't you let me handle one of them? Here's what we can do. You stay here and await my signal, Lamont. Keep your sights on the guy who's farthest to your right, and whatever you do, don't lose sight of him. I'll move around from the south and flank them that way. When I'm in position, I'll give you my signal, and when I do, you fry the brain of your target, Lamont. Leave the rest to me!" he grinned confidently, eyeing Lamont and Reynolds for support in his plan.

Just like he had hoped, his suggestion seemingly struck gold with the sniper, for she turned towards her tiger captain with a big smile – which almost showcased her fangs to some extent – and uttered her joyous acceptance of John's plan, "I agree with him, sir; I really do! That'd be the perfect way to deal with these two hostiles without having to worry about the risk of an alarm being raised."

Reynolds looked searchingly at Saber for some time, obviously mulling the idea, which the young lieutenant had just presented, about in his head, before he gave a curt nod of acquiescence, "Very well, then. It seems sensible enough to me, although it's slightly different from what I normally do. Carry it out, if you must. But what's your signal?" he asked John gruffly, obviously showing his contempt with the human's untraditional way of thinking, when it opposed his normal plans as much as it did. And Saber was quite visibly pleased about the captain's decision, for he only gave a wry grin of acceptance before he turned around in his crouched and tense position, ready to sprint into the jungle.

"Oh, don't think too much about that, man. You'll know it when you see it, that's a given! I'll be back in a jiffy!" Saber grinned reassuringly to his comrades before he broke into a light sprint, nimbly flitting in and out between the mighty trunks of the ancient trees, which obstructed his path through the thick undergrowth. As he lithely traversed the lush vegetation, swiftly darting in between the trees and vines, John remembered to tread softly, albeit quickly, as to not compromise his position, but still be able to reach his targets in a decent amount of time. His primarily dust-green clothes also added to his sense of security. Lest he accidentally break a branch and the enemy could thus hear him, his clothes provided excellent camouflage when employed in an environment such as this.

The green, obfuscating blur, which the surrounding terrain was bathed in because of the night vision goggles he had borrowed from Mason, made it difficult to pinpoint any exact details as he softly sprang over fallen logs and branches, landing smoothly on the forest floor again without making a sound as he continued on his course. And in what seemed like the passage of a few heartbeats, Saber suddenly found himself staring into the back of one of the hostiles some distance ahead of him, the other having gone ahead a bit to check the terrain. His ecstatic sprint through the jungle, relying solely on his instincts and observations to find a way, must have gone a lot quicker than he thought it to; but obviously, the enemy had not noted him coming.

His mind-set changing from the nimble scout to that of the well-trained swordsman and commando as he found himself in this position behind an unsuspecting enemy – the mentality with which he felt most comfortable – John reached his right hand ever so slowly over his right shoulder, where he clasped the hilt of Ragetooth firmly in his grip. Then, still demonstrating the uncanny self-taught expertise that he possessed whenever he was in control of a sword, Saber slid the enchanted weapon from its leather sheath, making no noise at all as he did so, since he realized that stealth was crucial to this operation if they were going to succeed. And again, his deftness resulted in the lucky outcome that the cyborg soldier before him did not hear a thing as the lieutenant unsheathed Ragetooth, nor did it hear anything as John waved the rune-engraved blade over his head in a couple of wide, silent swings, the demonic runes engraved in the blade glowing a sinister, pulsating crimson red, indicating danger ahead.

But in actuality, this warning sign from Ragetooth proved to be the informative light for others. Crouched in the bushes a good distance from Saber's current position, the panther Cosby squinted out into the night, eyes narrowed in intense concentration. And as he suddenly saw the crimson flash of runes sway wildly back and forth in between the tall trunks of the trees, there was no doubt in his mind as to what it was. Tapping his captain on the shoulder, Cosby relayed the information in a whisper, "Sir, did you see those weird letters in there just before? The way they swayed… It was almost like they were put onto something… A stick of some sort… " the panther mused, too absorbed in figuring out what it might be to actually reach the right conclusion, which Reynolds did after the shortest of moments.

"That's got to be the lieutenant's signal! He said we'd know it when we saw it, and that sounds strange enough to be something that he could think of. And the opportune moment is slipping out of our hands as time goes by… I think this is it. Lamont, take your shot now!" he hissed sharply to the lioness, who did not waste a moment of precious time.

"Understood, sir. Lining up on the hostile and taking the shot!" Lamont whispered back in affirmation before she pressed the rifle to her shoulder determinedly, narrowed her eyes as she looked through the scope at her chosen target – the head of the foremost cyborg – and resolutely pressed the trigger.

To her, it seemed as if the head of the hostile trooper simply disappeared in a blinding flash of crimson light as she looked at it through the scope and crosshairs. But for John, the sight was completely different. Because he watched the event from a different angle, he could clearly see the laser bolt as it streaked through the obscuring veil of the night, smashing forcefully into the temple of the cyborg, which fell limply to the ground, twitching because of the energy rupture, sparks flying from its damaged head. And just as Saber had expected, the cyborg just in front of him froze for the shortest of moments, but then started to reach for a black box on its hip, which was presumably a comlink. Not wanting to let their position become known ahead of time, the lieutenant decided to make his move.

Boldly and swiftly stepping forward with Ragetooth in hand so that he was directly behind the cyborg, John quickly stretched out his right leg, curled it around the lower leg of his adversary, and toppled the technological abomination with a well-practiced and graceful foot sweep. The unprepared alien fell down on the ground with a heavy thud, face first, and as it struggled to get up from the dense undergrowth after this unexpected ambush, Saber swiftly drove the point of his glowing enchanted blade squarely through the back of its metal-encased head, causing violent sparks to fly from the now short-circuited databanks within its brain. The cyborg twitched and flailed around in violent spasms a few times, but then it went limp and motionless. The entire attack had not taken more than the space of approximately four heartbeats.

Satisfied with his own stealthy elimination of the hostile, John gracefully pulled his sword out of the head of his now deceased adversary, checking the blade for serious traces of blood or unexpected dents before he put it in its sheath again with a nod of acceptance to himself. Giving an affirmative wave to his squad further back, indicating that the threat had been neutralized and that it was safe to move up, Saber took the time to study his newly felled foe. And as he laid eyes upon all the familiar details in its construction, the young human lieutenant could not help but shiver, for he instantly recognized all the lethal cybernetic appendages, which made up an Exterminator: The wrist cannon, the electrical fist, the dome over the head, and so forth. Shocked by the realization that he had now been affirmed in his primary suspicion, John patiently waited for the rest of his team to catch up with him, watching their wary progress through the jungle towards his position. As they finally reached him and his fallen opponent, Mason was the first to speak up enthusiastically, as the crimson avian stepped forward and placed a wing on Saber's shoulder.

"Buddy, that was a hell of a takedown you did there, I'll give you that! We watched it all from our little hiding place over there, and it just looked great. How the hell did you learn to do something like that? And how did you learn to use that clumsy weapon of yours? Seriously, that's just so out of date!" the scout chuckled, pointing a wing-feather in the direction of Ragetooth. Reynolds also nodded energetically as if to acknowledge his agreeing with Mason, an equally enthusiastic smile flitting across his striped visage. But the group's spirited pleasure was not to last, as the lieutenant cut through and laid out the bare and harsh facts for them all to hear, as he gesticulated in the direction of the Exterminator.

"Hey, guys, before you get all pumped up and excited, I'd like to mention to you just how dangerous these guys are! I was right in what I saw back there, these are the cyborgs I fought during the onslaught on Corneria. These guys are called Exterminators, or so I've heard, and they're a pain in the ass to fight against, let alone to beat. Why they're here, even though Corneria was the last place that they were seen, I can't tell you. I don't know that, but what I do know is that if the planet's already crawling with these things, I don't think we should get our hopes too high up just yet! We were lucky that we spotted these two in time, but if we wade directly into an ambush, we're screwed big-time!" he emphasized strongly.

Reynolds considered the essence of his words carefully, being the seasoned captain that he was, before he nodded curtly in acceptance. Even though it had been formulated by an extraterrestrial, who had no previous experience with Cornerian marine operations, Reynolds' honed mind with its astounding mental acuity could find no obvious lacunae present in the strategy, and as such, the reserved tiger captain decided to voice his acceptance.

"Alright, then; what you say makes sense. I'll remember it. Okay, guys, let's continue towards the coordinates of the enemy base, but exercise extreme caution. If these Exterminator-things are out and about, we'd do best to avoid them, and deal with them only if and when they show up and obstruct our path. Okay, let's move out!"

And with that, the marine-contingent looked at their satellite uplinks to regain their orientation, formed their formation again and began to go back to their original route, keeping an even more vigilant eye on their surroundings than before. But with the encounter with a ruthless cybernetic enemy which they had just gotten out of fresh in their minds, they knew deep down that this extra vigilance was desperately needed.

---

In any battle at any given location, at any given time, it was almost to be considered a valid fact that when one side had taken steps to circumvent any unfortunate events that might suddenly arise, the other side took one action in return, which seemingly always proved to be the single scenario or consequence, which the first side had not prepared for. And this battle was certainly no exception for all of the four fronts involved; the Landmaster-division, the marines, the Arwings and the cruisers.

Even though the Cornerian marines had adopted a more vigilant way of approach, this heightened state of alertness was not enough to save them from the enemy, which they had no chance of seeing at all. Hidden in some of the trees, which formed a sort of natural perimeter around the outskirts of what would become the territory of the alien base, a number of ultraviolet beams crisscrossed between the mighty trunks of the trees, in which the beam devices had been placed, forming an effective invisible web of ethereal threads and traps into which the unwary could easily stumble, had he not noticed the well-camouflaged wires running up alongside the trunk. And that was precisely what the marines did not do, since their attention was devoted to surveying the immediate vicinity, and not to looking for hidden wires. By their violent barging through these ultraviolet beams, they triggered a silent, local alarm inside the control room of the alien HQ, which – on a side note – was already bustling frantically with activity.

Several of the purple-skinned and long-limbed aliens in white lab coats, flanked by rows of idly staring and inactive Exterminators at the walls of the quadratic control room, sat almost motionlessly in front of the large screens, which took up almost an entire wall and displayed continental and planetary readouts with mainly green and red colours on a dark-blue background, bathing the entire room in a flickering and sickening luminescence, despite the dull grey walls, which did not really reflect much light. But right now, mayhem was apparently breaking out at different locations across the planet simultaneously, which was the reason for all the staff running to and from this hub of information.

Standing and observing several things on a screen, which a technician pointed out to them, General Scales and his alien conspirator looked interestedly at the screen, while the technician spoke, "As you can clearly see here, indicated by these red flashes, we're being attacked from three places at once, and the enemy is proving to be quite resilient and reluctant to surrender. Firstly, we've gotten reports from our defensive mounds on the plains, which indicate that they've sent a tank division to come at us from that angle. Secondly, the Cornerians have also engaged our fleet in space with their own fleet, and so far we're keeping them at bay, although they put up a good fight. And thirdly, we've just registered a perimeter breach. Someone, presumably a Cornerian marine-contingent, has triggered our ultraviolet sensors. What do you suggest we do about all of this, sir?" the alien technician queried nervously, looking at his superior for advice.

The alien with the mechanical semi-dome at the back of his head said nothing at first; he only stared fixedly at the red flashes on the map at the screen, which indicated where the clashes were occurring. But then, his mouth turned wry in a condescending sneer as he realized how this could be dealt with in a way, which would also grant him his much sought-after individual, "We'll do nothing offensive as of now. Since they're obviously so eager to pound us into the dust, we'll just let the pretentious Cornerians exhaust themselves on throwing everything they have in our heads. Let the mounds and the fleet proceed with whatever they're doing; they can hold their own. But in actuality, I think we must realize the possibility that these advancing marines could become a threat if we allow them to come too far into our territory. They must be intercepted. Lend me a squad of Exterminators, and I'll go out there and see to it that it's done in… ahem… an orderly fashion.

"Also, Scales", he said, turning towards the large reptilian warrior, "give our informant the signal that he's clear to proceed with forcing our subject down here. Since Krystal's quite reluctant to come down here of her own free will, she'll perhaps need a prodding. I do hope that our informant's involved himself as much with her as I hope. If he has, then the shock of having a friend betray her will completely prevent her from thinking logically, in which case it should be a piece of cake to force her down here. Remember, he should only shoot in order to disable her Arwing, and not to destroy it! Understood?"

"Of course. You can count on me and my Sharpclaw-warriors on the mounds. With your genetic modifications, they'll hold the Cornerians at bay while our informant forces Krystal away from the other Cornerian troops. No-one in space will miss a single Arwing, after all!" Scales grinned viciously before he turned around and stomped resolutely out through the small door, through which he had come.

As the door closed with a serpent-like hiss of compressed air, the mechanized alien turned back towards the status screen, a diabolical light of unquenchable lust and desire burning brightly in his eyes, meshing with the various digitalized hues from the screen.

"_Soon, my dear Krystal…_" he thought with a touch of finality in his thoughts, "_Soon, you will be all mine…_"

---

"_One round of death and destruction coming your way, dude!"_

As much as Mikki had told himself never to doubt the faithfulness and determination of his friend Jakob, the sergeant did find himself doubting just that in the middle of the uncontrollable pandemonium on the battlefield in front of the defensive mound set up by the aliens and Sharpclaw, who inhabited his colonized planet. Five minutes had passed since he sent the transmission to Ghost about some much-needed air support, and a reaction had still not been given from the cruiser in spite of the words of confirmation, which his friend had uttered through the comlink.

While waiting for this crucial strike, which Shield inwardly wished would come with all his might, he cast a glance around the battlefield itself. Upon realizing that they would not be able to withstand such an unceasing and relentless energy-bombardment for much longer, the Landmasters had decided to give ground and retreat some way across the blighted and dead alien landscape, leaving a suitable distance between themselves and the aliens, so that the armaments placed on the mound had a harder time getting to them, while the Cornerian tanks at the same time formed an effective defensive perimeter and position, consisting of a nicely made staunch phalanx of glimmering armoured Landmasters that unloaded every last burst of energy, which their pulse cannons managed to produce, on the belligerent entities situated on the mound before them.

Thus, two strikingly different energy waves – one blazing with the multicoloured hues of chaos while the other was a surge of viridian energy orbs – constantly billowed back and forth across the battlefield, smashing relentlessly into whatever stood in their way, resulting in considerable casualties on either side. Most profoundly, these losses were felt by the aliens, but the vicious extraterrestrial warriors also managed to rob two valiant Landmaster-pilots of their lives by death from a virtual conflagration as their tanks were riddled by enemy fire, ignited and blown to pieces by the distinctly pernicious hail of alien lasers and plasma.

But as the Landmasters and valiant Cornerian troops were pinned down like this, their morale and hope of winning slowly dwindling by the minute as they sped back and forth across the battlefield in order to avoid enemy artillery and hopefully dish some pain of their own out in return, the precise occurrence happened, which Mikki had been waiting for. The event, which made him realize that he should not give up his faith in Jakob just yet, and also the event which seemed to Shield to be the undeniable vindication of the Cornerians' fierce and vengeful crusade against the alien menace.

At first, a circle in the cloudy sky above the mound seemed to suddenly shimmer a bright light purple, as if something godly were making its way to solid ground. But then, what seemed like a celestial lance of pure, concentrated and light purple energy descended rapidly from the sky with a sonorous sound, hammering straight into the middle of the mound, skewering its central core as if it were an organism, which it was critical to pierce through the heart. And merely one heartbeat after that, the mound began to tear itself apart, seemingly of its own volition. Cracks appeared in the sides and metallic armour cladding of the otherwise so resilient mound, and hellish tongues of flame belched ravenously from the gaping wounds, almost as if they were trying to devour the erected defence perimeter, as violent explosions rocked the interior of the complex. And when the outer shell finally blasted itself apart, it quickly became a rain of debris and body parts, some mutilated aliens still screaming in deadly angst as they were propelled away from the mound by the immense shockwave. But when the smoke and rubble cleared there was nothing imposing left with the hostiles anymore. Everything that they had once held was not transformed into smoking piles of debris, body parts and fallen soldiers; of course – despite their natural sturdiness – also the Sharpclaw had become the victims of the vengeful retaliation on the aliens.

As they realized that the continuous hail of laser fire had suddenly ceased from the side of their opponents, the gathered Landmaster-pilots could not help but cheer, relishing the joy of having survived such a demanding task as this. And in the midst of it all, Mikki could not help but holler some kind of battle cry and laugh with them. He was glad that fighting morale and a positive attitude kept washing over his men the further they progressed. They would probably need any energy they might have the chance to obtain if they were to deal successfully with the third and last defensive mound.

In the middle of his musings, the human sergeant was abruptly jolted from his mental reverie by the characteristic crackle of his comlink, giving way for Gaines' energetic response, "Sir, firstly I'd like to say that whatever happened just now was one hell of a show, and I wouldn't be surprised if you had some part in it! And secondly, I'd like to tell you that my boys are as anxious and eager as they can get. They really want to blast some alien butt now, and I say that we let them! According to the scans of the terrain ahead of us, only one more mound remains, and then we'll have done our job. What do you say, Shield?" the rhinoceros asked him jokingly.

As he voiced his opinion on Ganies' simple, but yet so effective, strategy, Mikki could not prevent his own eager for battle from shining through as a quivering note in his otherwise so neutral response, "Right, Harry. That sounds okay to me, so let's do this! I'm also as ready as I can be after that laser-show from Ghost just before!" he grinned, obviously content with continuing the destructive rampage of vengeance. At his mark, every remaining Landmaster in the division fired up its ion-flux engines and drove at full speed ahead with a purple blaze of ionized exhaust protruding from its rear, determined to meet the last threatening obstacle head-on as quickly as possible, hoping to punch a hole through it with mere brute force.

On their way there, however, the division had yet to clear a much more present obstacle: The shattered remains of the second defensive mound. But of course, they did not prove to be much of a problem for the hover-jet equipped blue-white vehicles of war, as they merely activated these afterburners and hovered elegantly across the newly made debris. As Shield cast a curious glance at the pitiful and almost laughable slumped remains of the once so imposing hostile fortification, he could not help but let a surprising realization surface within him as he eyed the immense amount of shattered rock and debris from the weapons, along with the charred and almost unrecognizable bodies of aliens and Sharpclaw which were buried beneath the rubble, their blackened faces twisted in horrid incarnations of true and painful horror. No matter how strong this enemy was in numbers, and no matter how strongly they had fortified themselves on this obviously colonized world, they had forgotten to take into account a factor of an eventual battle, which was as decisive as the number of weapons: The zeal and morale of their foe.

And thus when they were dealing with the Cornerians, who came here under the leadership of a charismatic and zealous human, Mikki realized, a complacent smile finding its way across his face, the cold military effectiveness of the extraterrestrial defence troops could not help prevail against the unbridled zeal and stout determination of the Cornerians, who were now a race and a force set out for the ultimate retaliation: Complete extermination of any hostile race who dared oppose them. An objective, which Shield had no trouble identifying himself with, being the noble fighter that he was, and which he had no trouble committing himself fully to with every last bit of his willpower. He would unite with the Cornerians in their righteous mission… or die trying.

But as it happened, the young human sergeant was in for a most plausible test of this very devotion, which had only now unveiled itself fully in all its glory within the confines of his mind. As the sturdy armoured division had landed at the other side of the demolished mound and progressed across the desolate plains of the continent while he had been lost in his abrupt musings, the landscape had not changed a bit from the bleak and dreary grey flatlands, with which the soldiers had been greeted during their initial descent onto the alien home-world, still flanked by the black mountains on the left and the crevices on the right. So it was understandably quite a surprise when a single scout troop suddenly reported in from the front, his agitated voice almost becoming but a crackle in Mikki's comlink as he struggled to shake the mental cobwebs of his newly conceived realization from his cerebrum.

"This is the scout segment to all troops: Be advised, everyone, the third mound's coming up… and it doesn't look pleasant. The other two were nothing when compared to this sucker. Just thought you'd like to know, guys!" the wolf who piloted the tank reported calmly, yet with a distinct quaver in his voice, which could only be caused by the unnerving presence of undisguised nervousness. And then, upon seeing the fortification slowly materializing out of the darkness and slight fog, which had slowly and inexorably begun to descend onto the plains, the other Landmaster-pilots saw the reason for this very nervousness.

If the second mound had reminded them of a small bastion, then this resembled a large garrison or a keep, which was indisputably impenetrable by any conventional means. Stretching up into the rapidly darkening sky, the immense and overwhelming size and structure of the mound seemed to be almost equivalent to a small bunker, which was not built underground, but rather placed on top of the planet's surface. With its size, width and unquestionable voluminous interior and density, the mound was undoubtedly heavily fortified, which was proved most notably by the armour in which it had now been completely encased. It sparkled and glimmered faintly in the slowly appearing milky-white moonlight, which shone brightly from the sky, the top section of armour almost resembling the unyielding carapace of a gigantic, metallic sleeping beetle. And this beetle soon awoke and began unleashing its furious anger swiftly at the armoured Cornerian interlopers, as more and more alien infantry and enhanced Sharpclaw began to man the gun emplacements, with which the no less than five ledges on the mound were bristling.

As Mikki saw this strongly imposing sight, even the determined human sergeant could not deny being taken aback in utter awe and wonderment. And even as the first multicoloured lances of force were sent out from the alien fortification to slam against his Landmaster-division, he had still not given a decisive order because he was so profoundly astounded by this greatly unsettling sight of the alien defence.

It took an almost shrill and panicked demand for information from Gaines to shake Shield from his disturbing mental limbo, "Shield, what the hell do we do about this one? It looks too solid to even hope to make a dent in, not to mention all of those wildly blazing guns up there! If we don't do something soon, we'll be cannon fodder, that's for sure. So, how about it?" the rhinoceros asked his human superior. But to his amazement, despite the otherwise insurmountable odds they were currently facing, it seemed as if Mikki had not given up at all when he was confronted with this awe-inducing sight of a defensive mound, for the reply that crackled through the comlink was still full of the spirited willingness, which had almost become Shield's trademark in the midst of battle,

"Well, if you ask me purely strategically, I don't know, Harry, and frankly, I don't care as of now. Take the squad, retreat and form up in that defensive formation you always use," he said before pressing the trigger for his own Landmaster, sending his armoured vehicle rocking back and forth as he unleashed a controlled spherical blast of light-green energy from his pulse cannon in retaliation to the increasing amount of enemy fire, "And when you've done that, let's pray to the cosmic powers or whatever that it'll prolong our lives for as much time as we need to work out something to beat these heavily armed bastards. And if it's a frontal assault that we'll need, then so be it!" he grinned widely and enthusiastically.

"_And if that doesn't work, we might as well say our prayers!_" the sergeant thought inwardly. But since he did not want to diminish the considerable morale of his troops before this critical assault, Mikki did not say this glum realization out loud. Instead, he merely gave another charismatic order, "All units, return fire, now!"

---

Even with their well-developed sense of conflict and impending danger, the Cornerian marines – who were sneaking through the jungle ever so stealthily – did not at all realize that something was wrong or had altered, since they had breached the – for them – imperceptible net of ultraviolet beams and triggered a silent alarm. It was as if the jungle itself had grown more silent or tenser in a sense, as if nature itself was waiting to watch the outcome of this fatal mistake. And nature's wish was soon to be granted.

The wary walk of the marines had led them in between many dense groupings of trees, their path becoming more and more obscure by the minute as darkness began to fall rapidly, laying its velvet-black cape across the sky. So understandably, the group was very amazed as it spotted what seemed to be a vast clearing in the density of trees some distance ahead. It had been their belief up until now that no effort had been made from the aliens to clear the jungle in order to facilitate the construction of an eventual installation. But as they saw this clearing, they estimated it to be just such an artificially induced passage, the trees thinning out in what seemed to be a slight depression in the terrain. As the marines warily advanced towards the edge of the trees, weapons drawn and at the ready to fire at any approaching Exterminators or other threats, they finally got close enough to the phenomenon to be able to point out certain details and characteristics.

Even through the green, but somehow strangely illuminating, blur of the night vision goggles that they all carried, they could quite clearly see that their preliminary assumption had proved to be correct. The terrain did indeed slope downward, creating a significant hollow in the ground, which was completely devoid of trees. It was clear that the aliens had remorselessly interrupted the equilibrium of nature here, in order to suit the jungle to accommodate their needs and schemes. Instead, what remained of the trees lay on the ground, spread out in various large heaps of fallen logs, branches and other parts of trees. Unfortunately, not a single marine had the slightest interest in dendrology, so they did not view it as parts of a toppled tree, but merely as suitable cover, since the piles – three by the looks of it, scattered around in the hollow with a fair distance between each other – could probably cover a Cornerian of average height up to the chest. The elevated part of the terrain was not particularly interesting to look at, though, since the edge which ran all the way around the hollow was covered with thick trees standing closely to one another, preventing even the slightest glimpse of what could possibly be lurking in between them. From the look of things, it seemed as if the designated path of the marine-contingent continued at the other side, making clearing this hollow safely a necessity.

Just as the group had reached the edge of the trees, which led out into the hollow, Reynolds gave everyone the signal to freeze by clenching his paw and holding it slightly up into the air. And this time, even John understood the signal perfectly, ceasing movement instantly, as not to repeat his failure from before by bumping into someone unexpectedly. As every member of the group had finally fallen silent, the reserved tiger made a beckoning gesture to one of his troops, "Anderson, what do you make of this?" he asked in a whisper.

The husky assault trooper, who had until then served as a rear guard, slowly crept up to the front line of the formation, all the while keeping his large automatic assault rifle trained at the surroundings. As he reached the front, he kneeled softly on the ground, sighting down the length of his weapon as he slowly scanned the hollow and its immediate surroundings for visible threats. When he found none, Anderson turned his head towards Reynolds and told him his immediate thoughts, "From the looks of it, it's a classic box trap, sir. This place is ideal for an ambush… Hell, I'd even go as far as to say that it invites you to execute one if you spot the enemy down here. There's only limited cover for whoever's down here, while the enemy has the advantage of the trees up there on the ledge all the way around us. I really don't like this, sir; it just reeks of an ambush!" the husky whispered anxiously in return, grimacing uncomfortably as he realized what he had estimated their situation to be.

Upon hearing this, Saber nodded energetically, "Yeah, I hear you! And that's why I say that we'd better get across as fast as possible. Just run as fast as you can, guys, and don't stop until you reach the other side. There's really no point in sneaking forwards if something like an ambush could happen… At least, that's what I can think of now!" the lieutenant mumbled as he finished his sentence, wanting to let his squad know that this was merely an impulsive idea, and one of the best he could think of at the moment.

Unfortunately for John, such impulsive acts were not looked mildly upon by Reynolds, for the captain turned his head and gave Saber a fierce glare, the rage and consternation about the human's impudence clearly shining through, although he had in reality been made the true leader of the contingent, "Listen up, you pretentious git! Pepper only sent you with us because he didn't know what else to do with you, I assume. I don't approve of that plan in the least. It's strategically implausible, it's foolish and in any other way unsatisfactory. You may have some combat skill, I'll give you that, but in any other aspect as a marine, you're completely lacking. Sending you with us was a grave mistake from Pepper's side. I'm not too soft-hearted to admit that! But we still have a responsibility to look out for you and bring you back alive, so just stay here and do nothing while we scan the area, extraterrestrial!" Reynolds spat somewhat condescendingly, still eyeing John fiercely.

But luckily for the human lieutenant, whose primary suspicion had now been completely affirmed – that Reynolds did not like him at all from the first time he laid eyes on him – someone other in the group chose to speak up for him and defend him; namely the crimson avian scout, Mason. With a soothing smile on his beak and a placating gesture, he addressed his superior, "Hey, captain sir, don't think of him like that! He's a great guy, really…" But unfortunately, the scout came no further in his argumentation before Reynolds – being the Lylatian patriot that he was – cut him off sharply.

"Mason, if you question my motives or my judgement again, there will be repercussions. Make no mistake, lieutenant! For now, we'll just follow a standard formation protocol. Move out in our earlier formation and keep your eyes open… except you, Saber!" he emphasized, as John was obviously getting ready to go, "You just stay put until we've secured the area, understood?" the gruff and patriotic tiger asked, clearly letting the human lieutenant understand that he had no wish to work with extraterrestrials like him if it could be helped. And as John was about to open his mouth and say something unquestionably impertinent to Reynolds, the Lylatian captain merely answered with another one of his sharp glares, causing Saber to fall silent instantly and answer with nothing but a sulk and an acceptant nod. Thus assured, the Cornerian marines started their walk out into the unknown.

Cautiously, the group advanced across the hollow, pointing their weapons at any and all movements, however small, that they saw around them, be it merely the leaves on some of the surrounding trees rustling lightly in the wind. From his assigned position, Saber watched the marines' progress across the clearing with a glum and sour look on his face because of Reynolds' obvious rejection of him and his talents, merely because he came from another solar system. One's point of origin should not be the deciding factor, by which the truthfulness of one's loyalty or one's skill was measured, he thought. But Reynolds, the Lylatian patriot, had prejudicially done exactly that with him just now…

Shaking his head lightly in wonderment with an almost inaudible murmur of irritation, John cleared these captivating cobwebs of conflict from his mind and focused on the marines as they still warily made their way across the clearing. They had approximately reached the middle by now and were in front of the pile of trees, which was situated in the middle, meaning that they had one more on either side, and for a moment, Saber's doubtful mind was actually beginning to think – much to his joy – that they would get across unhindered.

But as soon as he had thought that, fate did its utmost to crush his hopeful mind with black misfortune and utter devastation.

Suddenly, while the marines were still traversing open ground, a lot of sharp, synchronic, snapping and metallic sounds – eerily reminiscent of blasters being cocked for the perfect shot simultaneously – sounded from the dense growth of trees all around them. For the slightest of moments, John thought that he saw the pale hue of fear flush over Reynolds' skin beneath his fur before he barked out an order instantly, almost purely out of instinct, "Incoming fire! Team, take cover, now!"

His order did indeed work just like it was supposed to, for as soon as those words had been uttered, every last marine in the squad ran quickly and efficiently for cover behind one of the piles of fallen logs. Mason and Anderson dived in behind the one farthest to the left, Lamont and Cosby quickly sprinted to the one on the right while Reynolds stoically crouched low behind the one in the middle. And as the marines attentively crouched behind these newly discovered barriers, their enemy chose to make its entry.

Silently and swiftly walking out from behind the dense trees on the elevated ledge, which ran all the way around the hollow, twenty-five Exterminators emerged from the deep darkness in between the trees with their emotionless eyes glimmering with the cold light of absence of contrition, and with their wrist-grafted laser cannons trained upon the unfortunate marines in the hollow. As the cybernetic abominations had gotten into suitable positions, from which they would be able to keep an eye on everything that happened in the hollow, a voice just as cold, emotionless and malicious as the individuals, by whom the owner of this voice was undoubtedly accompanied, sounded from somewhere in the deep darkness among the trees, having a tinge of a British accent to it.

"Whoever's in charge of this pitiful group, I recommend for your sake that you safety your weapons and drop them on the ground in front of you… if you even want to have the slightest chance to live!"

Upon hearing this, a glint of indignation and hurt pride about being surprised so abruptly by these alien menaces began to materialize in Reynolds' eyes. With a forceful and commanding note resonating in his steady voice despite the frightful situation, the captain addressed this unknown plotter, "This is Captain Reynolds of the Cornerian Marines. Who are you that dare to give me and my men orders? Show yourself, coward!" he shouted angrily.

A moment or two passed, and then some soft footsteps could be heard from in-between the trees before the alien scientist with the black dome of machinery around his head emerged from the woods, curiously enough still clad in his lab-coat. Upon seeing the marines in the hollow, he folded his arms across his chest and eyed the Cornerians with a pitying stare from his stone-cold aquamarine eyes, his face grimacing in a condescending sneer.

"How laudable, indeed, that you dare speak to me like that, captain. But no matter, my previous statement still stands: Drop your weapons now or be annihilated on the spot. Surely, someone as trained in military tactics as you should be able to deduce from this that we have the advantage. We have the higher ground, captain. You didn't mistake me for a fool, did you now? Of course I had expected the arrival of you and your men long before you got here. Believe me when I say that you're… merely pieces in a larger game. And thus, this effort of yours, daring as it may be, is still an utterly futile effort. So I encourage you, if you want even the slightest chance of breathing the air of life again, to tell your men to drop their weapons now and stand down. I have no qualms about ending your lives here and now, but you might still prove… useful to me in some way, namely to return to Corneria and say that your mission was a failure and that there was nothing here. That way, our existence won't be compromised. It's either that… or death," the alien stated calmly, contorting his face in yet another wry, evil smile as he lightly tapped his foot against the undergrowth impatiently, "Come on, captain, speak up. I'm waiting…"

Although he was horrified to the core about what had just transpired, John knew deep down that he could not do a thing in his position, lest he be the source of the marines' – and his own – untimely demise by an impulsive charge into the clearing. And as such, the human lieutenant could only hold his position, sit there and watch powerlessly as tension escalated, rage and acrimony building up inside him ever so slowly.

---

"When one is consumed by the raging chaos of war, even the slightest advance on the battlefield might be construed as a first step towards victory. At least, that's only until you discover that your enemy has been playing you for a fool the entire time!" This was what Jakob muttered contemplatively to his crew as the consequences of his newest piece of seemingly tactical brilliance now revealed themselves in all their visible gruesomeness.

Since his decision to direct the IPCs at the planet and a Class IV torpedo at the alien cruisers, The Valaria and The Monolith had joined forces in a run through the enemy's front line, which mainly consisted of fighters, just as he had indeed planned. The two cruisers had effortlessly ploughed their way through, clearing a path with their own laser turrets while being greatly aided by several contingents of Arwings, which flanked the enemy squadrons before they even had time to react. Also, he and his crew could not help but cheer excitedly as another part of his plan came true, for the Class IV streaked through space on its unerring path, heading directly for the alien cruiser in the middle of their formation with the support of its built-in homing system. And even the most ferocious hail of purple laser-fire from the rapid-firing laser cannons on the cruises was not enough to stop the lethal construct from making contact with its target successfully.

As the cyan energy-wave from the EMP-device in the Class IV had dissipated, and after the sundering sphere of flame had settled after devouring a substantial amount of one of the two disabled cruisers, the insane amount of damage, which had just been inflicted upon the alien fleet, became clear in all its undeniable reality. One of the cruisers – the one which had been hit almost head-on by the devastating piece of explosive ordnance – drifted around in space as a brutally dismembered copper-coloured wreck sparkling faintly in the rays of Solar, an empty shell of a lethal construct which once was. Its neighbour, which had also suffered the consequences of the scorching blast as well as the EMP-bombardment, was gliding around in odd patterns, sometimes abruptly turning this way and that in oddly curved swings, its engines puffing out small, irregular bursts of azure ionized exhaust. The EMP-charge had clearly taken its toll on the automatic systems of the ship. So far, Ghost's plan about causing commotion in the enemy ranks had succeeded admirably.

But in the midst of this glorious success, this was also when the plan backfired with a devastating effect. As he had done before in his coolly calculating analysis, the young and otherwise perspicacious human commander had excluded the immense importance that fervour had to the fighting spirit of either oneself or one's enemy. In this case, it was the enemy, who was abruptly fuelled by a fervent desire for revenge after watching two of their cruisers go down so profoundly. Hence, several fighter squadrons decided to return the favour.

Jakob felt this most noticeably as he stood on the bridge of The Valaria, calmly observing the consequences of their latest action as the aliens frantically tried to regroup, with glimmering blue-white Arwing squadrons pressing the coppery metallic mass of alien strike fighters from the front and sides, doing a good job of driving them back and reclaiming an advantageous position for the Cornerian fleet.

With a broad smile lining his slightly aquiline visage, Ghost turned around to face his crew, who were still talking enthusiastically about their progress in the battle. And it was at the precise second when he opened his mouth and was about to compliment his crew for their efforts that the call came through from Commander Bennett on The Monolith, obscured by static due to incoming plasma fire slamming against the energy shields, "Attention, all ships, this is The Monolith! The aliens have just launched a massive attack on us seemingly out of nowhere. We need backup, now!" the normally equable voice of Bennett said anxiously through the comlink.

At first, the bridge of The Valaria was a silent as the grave, completely in awe about this shocking piece of news. But then, Williams decided to speak up tentatively, "Sir… this wasn't part of your plan, was it?"

In return, Ghost merely shook his head in a stressed manner, brushing the hair away from his eyes before turning to observe the situation. But before he did so completely, he chose to answer Williams back, "No, lieutenant-commander, you can be damned sure that I didn't want this. I don't know how it happened, but let's see what we can do about it, shall we?" he said irritably. But surprisingly enough, the silvery-furred wolf felt it as if this irritation was not directed at him. And he was completely right in feeling that way, for the irritation was merely the commander's way of chiding himself for letting something like this happen. With a troubled sigh, Jakob turned to face the window of the cruiser and look out at the extent of the damage.

It was severe; very severe. He could deduce that acutely as soon as he laid eyes upon the pandemonium, which was growing in intensity outside. A virtual coppery surge of alien fighter craft had managed to break through the containment-line of the Arwings with a sudden fervent boost of vengeance and resolve combined with their prodigiously powerful plasma weapons; the very same armaments, which they now unleashed upon the hulking figure of The Monolith, bombarding the ship with an energized rain of death. The Cornerians had suffered numerable casualties in this sudden strike, as it was evidenced by the remains of flaming Arwings churning slowly around their centre in the perpetual blackness of the void, dotting the black background like jagged, metallic stars. However, a quick glance at the remaining Cornerian pilots convinced Ghost that Team Star Fox was not among the deceased; again, their routine and skilful way of flying made them all stand out from within the blur of Arwings.

As he turned back to face his crew, another disturbing report crackled in from Bennett, "Goddamnit, where's our support?! Our turrets can only hold them at bay for so long! We've already lost ten percent of the shields, and if this keeps up, I don't know how much longer we'll last. Come on, people, get those fighters off of us!" the gecko said, now obviously in a panicked tone.

As Kyra terminated the connection, she fixated her human superior with her sympathetic gaze from her sapphire eyes, "Sir, I know you've just come out of one conflict and you're now almost involuntarily thrown back into another, but I beg you to think of something again. I can't bear the thought of losing anymore valuable Cornerian lives. And I know you never meant for this to happen, but please, won't you help them?" the young arctic vixen pleaded softly.

It took seemingly the shortest of moments for Ghost to decide on a course of action this time around, and not as long as it had done during his first dilemma. With a curt nod, he acknowledged the veracity of Kyra's plea before he gave her a clear answer, "Yes, Ensign Hawthorne, you're right. We should indeed help them, and that's what I aim to do now. Redirect all of our fighters from their run on the cruisers and tell them to focus solely on wiping every last alien fighter out, which threatens The Monolith. It'd surprise me a great deal if that didn't help. Seventy focused fighters can wipe out almost anyone, no matter how tenacious the enemy is. Do send the call, ensign," he urged Kyra determinedly, who did not waste a moment of precious time before she started to speak into the comlink.

As Jakob turned back towards the window of The Valaria to watch how the battle progressed with his new plan, Jackson's gruff voice sounded in his ear in a sympathetic manner, "Sir, it's not to constantly bring up that your first plan didn't work like you wanted it to, but how could such a perfect plan go as wrong as it has now?" the husky asked while he piloted the behemoth capital ship with a steady hand. In reply to this, the commander thought it over for just a moment before he answered the lieutenant's query, his answer being dominated by his characteristic eloquence and British accent as he calmly stated the obvious reason why, although a glum grimace overcame his facial features as he contemplatively stared at the chaotic battle outside.

"Well, you might also ask the question: Why do such seemingly ineluctable strategic intricacies almost always occur when I'm in command of something? And here's my answer: Unfortunately, the first plan was the only plausible solution I could contrive at the moment. And it seems that because I excluded our adversary's obvious thirst for vengeance and blood from my planning, I erroneously assumed that first contrivance to be strategically sound… and now, I'm paying the price!"

---

Unbeknownst to Jakob as he stood on the bridge of The Valaria, others were paying a terrible price as well. And amongst these unlucky ones, there was one individual, who was indeed very important to him, and who might be considered to be paying the greatest price of all: The complete betrayal of her trust in another possible friend on the battlefield.

As the aliens had pressed the charge with an unusual amount of newly gained fervour and thirst for revenge, Krystal found herself greatly surprised by the sudden onrushing horde of strike fighters on her position at one of the flanks of the alien group. As she laid her Arwing into a tight swing to avoid a head-on collision with a seemingly suicidal alien pilot, the cerulean vixen found her passage to the Arwings on the other side blocked by the now re-established swarm of alien fighters. Wanting to ascertain her odds, she frantically looked around on her side in search of the number of friendly units. And the result was much to her dismay, for with a bitter grimace of irritation conquering her delicate facial features, the young Cerinian realized that only twenty out of the two hundred and seventy Arwings had made it to her side, and that they were still being pushed around by some renegade alien fighter contingents, which did a good job of tormenting the Cornerian pilots as much as they probably could.

Not liking this new position at all, Krystal swung away from the whirling coppery wall of fighters, which streamed towards The Monolith in one dense wave. She wanted and needed greater manoeuvrability than that, which these tight quarters offered her, if she was going to be of any use in the field. As she spotted the first Arwing in danger that she could find by letting her gaze sweep around casually, Krystal immediately slammed down the controls for her afterburners, making her ship give a mighty lurch as it was suddenly given an abrupt increase of speed and streaked forwards through space, its blue and white hull glimmering brightly in the rays of Solar, seemingly competing with the purple ionized exhaust that sprayed from her engines about being the most freakish lightshow.

On her way there, as her adversaries slowly got clearer and she subconsciously began laying out a plan of what to do once she reached her designated targets, the young vixen transmitted a message to her beloved team-mate to hear where he was located, in case she would need him, "Fox, this is Krystal. I got trapped when the aliens decided to make their charge just before, and now I'm apparently cut off from the main group. On which side of the swarm are you?" she queried tentatively, hoping with all her might that Fox had managed to escape to her side in time.

But alas, the reply that crackled back in over the comlink made the cerulean Cerinian almost grit her teeth and narrow her eyes in irritation. She was situated at the side of the swarm, which blocked the view to the alien planet, and – much to her obvious vexation - Fox's reply was directly opposite of what she had hoped, "Hey Krys! I'm at the side of the swarm that faces the planet…" He paused upon hearing what he thought was her cursing under her breath, then continued, "And all of the other guys from the team are here as well. It seems that you just got unlucky and got trapped in there by yourself. When the attack thins out, I'll do everything I can to find you, Krystal. And that's a a promise," the golden-furred vulpine stated sincerely, clearly letting Krystal understand that such a petty occurrence could not break their bond or keep them apart when they had the chance to do otherwise.

As she heard those words, Krystal could not help but smile happily, convinced as she was by Fox's emotional pledge, "Alright, Fox. If you say it, then it is so. I'll look after myself here. Just try to stay alive until we meet again, okay, my love?" she asked sweetly and – upon receiving an affirmative answer from Fox – turned off her comlink in order to focus on the present situation.

The Arwing and its pursuers had gotten closer now and were almost within optimal firing range. With a smile of satisfaction flickering across her muzzle, Krystal was about to pull her trigger, her finger already hovering expectantly over the button… but at that precise moment, she was forced to deviate from her chosen course, and thus be unable to help the poor pilot being pursued, as an insane hail of laser blasts collided with the energy shields of her craft. And what was even more peculiar, she noticed out of the corner of her eye: It was viridian laser bolts that were being unleashed upon her, and not purple as was the standard for the alien strike fighters.

Despite her mind reeling in bewilderment about this sudden and unexpected discovery, it did not take long for the cerulean Cerinian with her mental acuity to deduce that the only thing, which was firing upon her now, was an Arwing. No other craft carried a laser type, which was of that exact hue of green as the one housed in the Arwings. Glancing wildly over her shoulder, eyes flaring with anger towards whatever impudent pilot was piloting the craft, Krystal did indeed see an Arwing lined up close behind her, its laser cannons working on full capacity, the blur preventing her from identifying the pilot properly. And no matter how many evasive manoeuvres she tried to pull off in order to lose her tenacious pursuer, the Arwing remained hot on her trail and continued blasting her ship.

Over the din of impacting energy blasts, which sent her ship rocking uncontrollably back and forth, Krystal established a line of communication with the Arwing and started to talk to the pilot angrily over her comlink, "Attention, Cornerian pilot, this is Krystal of the Star Fox Team. You've just exhibited an act of friendly fire, and if you don't cease fire immediately, I will have you court-marshalled when we return to Corneria. What do you think you're doing, anyw…" Just here, the otherwise continuous bombardment of energy ceased for the shortest of moments, giving Krystal a clear view of her follower and attacker. And when she saw who it was, this individual who had doubtless opened fire upon her deliberately, whatever wrathful words she was about to speak froze and clogged in her throat out of sheer shock and horror.

The face, which stared back at her from the pursuing Arwing, was so twisted and contorted by malice that it took her another glance to make sure she had indeed identified the pilot correctly. His deep brown, almost chestnut, fur stood out from his slim and shrewd-looking lupine visage in pure malicious excitement. But the fur was the least of the changes, which had occurred to this individual, whom Krystal had gradually begun to trust. His face in itself was barely recognizable, contorted as it was by insanity into a twisted caricature of the spirited and kind-hearted ally she had slowly gotten to know and associated with that face.

But what presented the most noticeable change to the face was his eyes and mouth, the former completely devoid of the warming glimmer of remorse – affirming him as an absolutely emotionless creature – and the latter twisted into what resembled a haughty snarl or grin. And seemingly just to complete the shock effect, which had already practically stunned the kind-hearted cerulean vixen, the reply he sent crackling over her comlink contained the same title, which she had determinedly told him not to address her by when they had first met in the Great Fox hangar. But now, he used it deliberately, stressing the title to the brink of the absurd as he dwelled scathingly on that word, only to intimidate Krystal even further if nothing else, before he resumed his pinning barrage.

"Surprise… Miss Krystal! Bet you weren't expecting that!"

---

**A/N:** If you can't guess who that mysterious attacker is after reading the description I've just given of him, you must've missed something somewhere... ;-)

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and that it'll be enough to keep you occupied during the break in updates that is now to come. I'll see you all when my assignment is done! Wish me luck. :-)


	11. Chp 9: Devastating Strike

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Hello, it's me again! First of all, sorry for the delay, but here it is! SF Ghost reporting with a long-awaited chapter of "Star Fox G-Wing: Call to Arms". I hope that you're ready for some more fierce fighting and the transition from a climactic space-battle to a planet-based mission where things get hectic, for here we go again! Enjoy, my faithful readers, and welcome back to CtA… I already have the next chapter ready, and it'll be up a week from now, just to give you some time to finish this one. Consider that quick update as payment for the long time you've had to wait. The time I've kept you waiting equals the time between two updates in my world, anyway. I hope this will be worth the wait!

(Originally, I had made the two chapters as one, but seeing as the word-count was topping 30.000, I didn't want to put too much strain on you with one single chapter, hence the update of two seperate chapters with a more manageable word-count, which I hope will be easier for you to read than one massive chapter. I don't want to lose my readers along the way, after all! ;-) If you feel like it, reviews are very much appreciated as always!)

**Chapter 9: Devastating Strike**

_(No log entries recorded on the Great Fox during the battle with the alien attackers.)_

There was no escape.

Despite his otherwise facetious and devil-may-care attitude even in the face of the toughest conditions in battle, this ineluctable fact instantly emerged from the swirling hazes of John's cerebrum as he watched the situation in front of him unfold, horror plain across his gaunt features. Whether it was the subtle workings of the undeniable fate or the more capriciously aligned aspects of chaos that had ordained the marines' imminent demise, he was not sure, but he knew enough about these situations to deduce a viable outcome from this intermezzo between the Cornerian marines and the aliens: Death.

The marines continued to hold their crouched positions behind their impromptu cover in the form of piles of fallen logs, the remains of great trees that had once stood in this hollow, but were now cut down in the name of industrial and technological advancement, since their removal would facilitate the construction of a base of operations in the area for the aliens. If one saw the marines pressing themselves tensely against the logs, one might get the feeling that it was as if nature itself tried to ward the Cornerian emissaries of justice and righteousness from harm by providing them with a shield from enemy fire, however temporary it may be.

The shadowy, and yet substantial, forms of the marines each emanated contradictory emotions, faced as they were with the seemingly insoluble predicament of escaping – and perhaps countering – the devious trap that the aliens had laid before them. On the one hand, Reynolds, for instance, seemed utterly staunch and strong of will, his striped and furred visage adopting the angular and rigid traits of a deeply focused individual, who is fiercely devoted to a cause, this cause being the rightful counterattack and successful mission of the Cornerians. On the other hand, the otherwise so excited and joking crimson avian Mason now crouched warily behind his pile of logs along with the husky Anderson, his feathered face showing clear and undisguised horror and shock because of the situation. Never before in his career had the avian scout come as close to losing his life as he was now, and understandably, he felt stricken with absolute fright.

The presence of the alien cybernetic abominations on the ledge around them did not add profoundly to the hopes and optimism of the group. Quite on the contrary, it was as if these monstrous cyborgs embodied the very cruelty and calculating demeanour, which inhibited those individuals that were completely devoid of any merciful emotion whatsoever, and this obvious callousness understandably deterred the marines in their otherwise valiant endeavour to exact Cornerian vengeance upon the extraterrestrial aggressors. Furthermore, the leader of the aliens, and the planner of this very trap, was as devoid of emotion as were his troops. He just stood there on the ledge, surrounded by a sizeable contingent of Exterminators, which undoubtedly acted as bodyguards or meat-shields, his elongated face with the vaguely light-purple skin twisted and contorted into a grimace of pure malice as he revelled in the almost tangible tension, which filled the hollow and spread among the marines.

Finally, it seemed as if the alien leader lost his patience, for he leaned slightly over the edge of the plateau and fixed his piercing, glacial gaze on the Cornerian captain, the aquamarine irises in his eyes twinkling faintly with the ineffable cold of the soul, like icy stars on a cold winter's night, "This is your last chance, captain. I've given you time to decide for yourselves whether you want to live or die, and I expect an answer now. What will it be, Cornerians?" he asked threateningly, the menacing tinge of a British accent in his voice doing nothing to assure the Cornerians of some possibly good intentions within the extraterrestrial individual.

The reserved tiger glanced once over his team, receiving the same response from all of them: A steady shake of the head, whatever that was supposed to mean. Reynolds, however, seemed to understand the gesture perfectly, for he fixed his own viridian eyes on the alien leader and spoke in a firm voice strengthened by the adamant note of resolve, "Here's the answer you desperately crave so much: We will never in any waking moment surrender ourselves to your twisted will! Cornerians don't do that, and especially not marines. We have a responsibility to make this a success, and we cling to that still!" he uttered tensely, an indeterminable glint showing in his eyes for the shortest of moments before he bellowed an order to his team, clearly intending to take the enemy by surprise, "Team, counter!" As the cry echoed across the hollow, every single member of his team seemed to understand him perfectly, for with lightning reflexes, they each grabbed hold of their weapons, sprang from their cover and aligned their aim at some of the Exterminators above.

As sad as it was, this brave display of heroism was utterly futile, to say the least, for in this situation, purely personal impulses and instincts could not prevail against the precisely calculating, structuring mind and alien intelligence of a machine-controlled entity, such as the frighteningly effective Exterminators. When this situation arose, the cyborgs just got the chance to prove that they were not the drab piles of metal and flesh that they appeared to be. Appearances can be deceiving, and with their next action, the Exterminators demonstrated the meaning of that saying admirably. With reflexes that were as swift and accurate as those of the marines – if not slightly faster – some of the alien troops raised their wrist-grafted laser cannons, aimed them at the legs of the marines, steadied their aim for the shortest of moments and fired simultaneously.

Countless laser bolts were sent flying through the air from the barrels of the blasters, streaking visibly through the inky night and following their aimed trajectory unerringly. These lances of crimson force slammed forcefully into the kneecaps or thigh muscles of the marines, effectively incapacitating each and every one of them before they had even the slightest chance to fire at the aliens above. After the sonorous resonance that came with every discharge of lasers had settled, the otherwise still air in the hollow echoed with quavering screams of pain, which reverberated with the shrill notes of anguish and deadly angst. Lamont, the otherwise so dignified lioness sniper, was clutching her right knee while screaming shrilly in intense agony, as she writhed in pain on the ground along with her friends. Every trace of her former dignity had disappeared completely from her posture and eyes. Now, her posture was one of painful defeat, and her otherwise glacial cerulean eyes were wide and uncomprehending at the sight of her shattered and ineffective kneecap.

The others were not doing particularly better. Anderson was grasping his injured weapon hand in the other hand, which still functioned properly, a low growl of fury reverberating in his throat. His panther colleague in the assault troops, Cosby, had suffered a far worse fate, as one would indeed infer if one could see the panther lolling in spasms of pain on the ground, rendered immobile by two crimson laser bolts smashing straight into the muscles of his thighs, ripping his tendons and tissue apart so that noting held him up.

Mason had taken a hit to the chest, and even though the hit in itself was not intended to be lethal, it was undoubtedly intended to be painful and agonizing, incapacitating the enemy that way. The scout gasped and wheezed rapidly for air as he clutched his broken chest bone, not worrying the least about his weapon, which he had dropped before him. Lastly, Reynolds had taken a scorching laser blast to both feet, and was now wailing loudly as he tried to stand on the severed remains. In spite of the excruciating pain, however, the captain's gaze did not seem to glaze over by the mist of near-unconsciousness. Instead, the flame of ire burned as brightly in his eyes as ever, as the Cornerian marine eyed the alien leader with a stare that was truly lethal – if stares were indeed capable of killing.

The alien leader did not seem to take this unspoken accusation of his brutal act too seriously, for he just eyed the Cornerian captain with a pitying stare before letting his gaze sweep across the other disabled marines, his smile twisting into a horrid grimace of contemptuous glee. When he had appraised the sight of his bloody work enough, he looked once again at Reynolds condescendingly and licked his lips in a thoughtful manner, before he gave his last words to the assembled group of slowly dying marines, all the while keeping his gaze focused on Reynolds as he spoke calmly and dispassionately.

"Hmm… what a deplorable situation. It truly didn't have to come to all this pain, you know. But still, defiant to the last. Certainly, that is a sign of an admirable fortitude, indeed! However, I'm afraid that it won't serve you well in the long run, my most rash friends. Your presence on this planet was merely a small, irritating thing to me. It doesn't matter much on the grand scale, and I have much more important matters to attend to than your pitiful excuse for an infiltration and an invasion. The Cornerians have always been an inferior Lylatian species, and they always will be! Your rotting carcasses in this, your self-chosen tomb, will doubtless be enough to prove that point to any Cornerian search team that comes your way. When this is over, you may perhaps see your beloved Corneria again… from the inside of your coffins, that is. Until then, I bid you a most pleasant farewell. Good day!" the alien leader said with mock dignity and nobility in his voice before smiling a cold, malicious smile.

As he started to turn and walk, what followed next reached the ear of every wounded marine, as well as John, who watched the entire scene from his place in the bushes, prompted as he was to stay there by Reynolds' explicit order. The alien sauntered slowly past one of his Exterminators, who looked at him expectantly. Towards it, he made only a slashing movement with his hand and uttered two simple words before disappearing from earshot, "Kill them!"

As much as Saber had known that the marines would sign their own death warrant when he heard Reynolds' charismatic exclamation, as much was this inference now confirmed when the Exterminators opened fire.

---

Friendship was a strange thing to Jakob. He would not at any time deny the immense importance it had to him to maintain the friendship with those he liked, nor would he deny the countless joys, which his numerable friendships had given him. However, one of his friendships in particular had demanded extra work on his part, in order to make sure that the bond of caring trust between him and this other individual was not severed prematurely by some unexpected accident during a conflict in which the two participated. When said in connection with this individual, the word "friendship" became ambiguous in Ghost's ears. It became both a promise of good things and a horrible imprecation at once.

Naturally, it was Krystal that his thoughts dwelled on when he thought of friendship in this way. As rewarding as that friendship had been for him in all the time he had known her – and it had indeed been rewarding, the reward coming in the form of a truly caring friend from another solar system – as strenuous had it also been for him to maintain at times when both of their lives were threatened. In such a situation, that otherwise so indissoluble friendship could end in the blink of an eye, and that was the reason for him to think about their friendship as something horrible, for it would certainly become horrible for the other if either he or Krystal died in action and passed away prematurely. It was indeed not a thought he liked nourishing or entertaining, but nonetheless, it was there, adding that undeniable sense of dissolving ambiguity to their caring connection.

The reason that these dark thoughts popped up in his mind in the midst of battle was that Krystal was in grave danger at this particular moment. Perched on the bridge of The Valaria as he was with an excellent view of the chaotic fray in space, the human commander had spotted this perilous situation the moment it arose, when Cain's Arwing started bombarding Krystal's ship with lasers in a clearly hostile manner – that is, not one brought about by a faulty aim. After having quickly checked the radar over Kyra's shoulder, thereby affirming that it was indeed Krystal who was in trouble, he had inwardly decided to do something about it as soon as he could.

Indeed, he would like to resolve this pressing predicament as soon as possible and ensure Krystal's continued survival, lest this situation be the first step down the road of the young Cerinian's imminent demise. This was one reason for his wanting to save her; the other was far more subconscious. Deep in his mind, Jakob secretly nourished the hope that the two of them would one day reform their legendary cooperation in the field, even despite the words he had said himself to Krystal a month ago, intent on ending their cooperation for Krystal's safety – and assurance of her developing her relationship with Fox without having to constantly move out on risky offensives with a risk of her dying prematurely. Perhaps, Ghost thought, he and Krystal could remedy the chaotic situation on the battlefield by teaming up again, utilizing the almost supernatural and uncanny skills of cooperation and teamwork that they had developed through months of training and missions together, ever since he had come to Lylat seven months ago, free from the earthly demands of schoolwork and dusty books. So his determination to rescue Krystal from this impending catastrophe in any way he could was understandably strong.

However, such a rescue would come at a terrible price: His inability to lead the Cornerian fleet-offensive; a price, which he would rather not pay unless no other viable alternative could be found. Perhaps the eventual demise of his friend – and his consequent absence from the situation when his presence was required the most – was brought about by the intricate workings of obscure universal powers, he mused, or perhaps it was merely the scorching reality of coincidence, which reared its ugly head. Jakob mulled these thoughts about in his head as he surveyed the battlefield yet again, wanting to ascertain the condition of his own ship as well as of the rest of the Cornerian fleet.

His calm and serene mannerisms served him well in keeping up his unperturbed demeanour, and also kept his emotions regarding the dangerous situation with Krystal from showing in his facial features as he looked over the battlefield in space along with his crew. Despite the recent initiative taken by the Cornerian Arwings to form up around The Monolith and blast any hostile craft that came their way, the pugnacious aliens kept attacking. The Monolith stood staunchly and resiliently in the middle of the coppery mass of onrushing fighters like a triangular, metallic bastion of pearly white Cornerian military prowess, effortlessly ripping through any attacker unfortunate enough to slip past its boundaries one way or the other with its highly efficient plasma and pulse turrets. These constantly spewed out a stream of pernicious green or cerulean fluorescent energy, which was devastating to anyone struck by it, and which often caused violent explosions as it tore through the coppery hull of yet another attacker, making his craft being devoured instantly in a gigantic orb of flame. The Cornerians had indeed saved their cruiser from a horrible destruction, but the belligerent alien attackers kept throwing contingent after contingent of strike fighters at them, completely undaunted by the massive Cornerian military juggernaut, fuelled as they were by xenophobia, hate and fervour. In his mind, Ghost quietly admired the tenacity of the Cornerians' alien opponents, along with the noticeable fury and rage with which they struck remorselessly time and time again. This just proved the saying about cornered animals fighting a last and desperate struggle against their captor, even though no feasible means of escape was in sight.

After having thought through all of his thinkable avenues of rescuing Krystal from her impending doom while at the same time maintaining leadership of the operation – and after making the bitter realization that no such thing could be done – Jakob silently bowed his head in acquiescence to the incontrovertible powers of fate. His usual perspicacity seemed not to help him in this dire situation, which was most unusual. He felt the anguish manifest within him, gnawing away at his heart with its acidic and venomous bite, but it was an undeniable fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do in the present situation; and ironically enough, now was the time when she needed his help the most. None of the other Arwings seemed to notice her peril, and Fox and her other faithful friends were effectively sealed off from her by the blockade of alien strike fighters, which had materialized between The Monolith and the various contingents of Arwings following the aliens' reckless charge through the Cornerian front lines.

Even though the Cornerian fleet had fought gallantly and managed to seriously decrease the opposition from the aliens, the threat still remained as new strike fighters zoomed across the battlefield from the only operational cruiser the aliens had left, colliding in clashes with the valiant Cornerian Arwings as copper-coloured lightning bolts from an otherworldly source. The blur of viridian and dark purple lasers still persisted in the jet-black void, although the dominant colour was slowly turning out to be the vibrant green of the Cornerians. However, this dominance on the battlefield had come at a terrible cost, since many valiant fighter pilots had reduced their once proud Arwings to jagged metallic stars with fires burning in their core as they drifted around in space, too demolished to rescue, their crippled state being the work of the efficient enemy armaments.

As the crimson light of Solar shone strongly through the window of The Valaria, interspersed with viridian or dark purple lances of energy, the light hit the slightly aquiline face of the human commander as he calmly watched the tides of battle ebb and flow. The eerie luminescence rendered his face aglow with an unsettling and sickly dark-red radiance, making his spare and young face with the characteristic incisiveness look immensely decrepit and tired, as if the toils of war and the simultaneous caring for his Cerinian friend had taken more from him than could be seen at first glance. He had not spoken a word to his crew since Cain had started opening fire on Krystal; he had completely returned to the coolly analyzing and quiescent state, for which he was renowned in the Cornerian Army. When he entered this state, it meant that something was seriously wrong, and that one should not disturb him, lest one break his steadily achieved equilibrium in the face of chaos.

In order to better accommodate ventilation to his body, Jakob had taken off his black leather trenchcoat and now stood in his grey battledress, black leather gloves and military boots, his armaments showing much more visibly than when he had his coat on. He had slung the trenchcoat across the back of one of the seats on the bridge. It seemed that Jackson, whom the seat belonged to, did not mind it in the least, or at least it did not prevent him from steering the cruiser still with admirable skill. Williams also sat diligently at the weapons controls in case his expertise was required for yet another devastating strike, and Kyra occupied the radar and communications relay as usual.

Finally, it seemed as if Ghost had had enough of watching the battle progress passively, for he abruptly turned around to face his crew with a flick of his heel. Upon seeing him finally turning around and letting his gaze settle on them, his crewmembers responded with wide smiles and hopeful glances, as if they expected to be conducting another daring attack on the aliens. However, they were to be sorely disappointed, since the only thing they got from Jakob was a smile. Not a smile alive with courage or determination as he had so often demonstrated, but rather a strained grimace of utmost weariness and fatigue. This glum suspicion was confirmed only a heartbeat afterwards as he started to address his crew, exhaustion and tiredness – that of the body as well as of the mind – plain in his ravaged facial features as he began to speak, his British accent sounding suddenly lost of its usual charisma. He had abruptly thought of one single idea that would let him help Krystal effectively… but that entailed paying an extremely high price as well. He stated the situation and his decision simply and concisely, as to not upset his crew too much by misleading them with equivocation; internecine strife among his crew was a thing he did not need at all right now.

"Well, my faithful crew, it's no use hiding it from you any longer, I'm afraid. Despite the otherwise positive reports about the Cornerian situation in the field that you're no doubt receiving now over the intercom, I think we might as well consider ourselves as being _in extremis_, so to speak; in a very difficult situation where the most resolute measures are required if we are to have any chance of victory and success at all. In order to prevail here, you'll need a leader who is resourceful, of rapier wit and most importantly, a good reader of situations. You might think right now that all of this is what I am, since I was appointed to this ship in the first place… but no more, unfortunately. Those abilities and traits have quite left me. A situation has arisen in the field, which requires my immediate attention, and as such, if I am to prioritize, I can't direct your offensive at the same time. I'm extremely sorry, guys, but that's the only thing I can do if I am to save my friend before she gets demolished out there!" he said gloomily, not offering any cheerful hope whatsoever in his tone.

This came as a shock to his entire crew. Once they heard the first part of his glum and depressing speech, they felt it as if their own fighting spirits, vigorously aflame with eagerness for battle, were dampened by the pelting rain of hopelessness, which emanated from their human commander and the idea he had just contrived of. There was no alacrity left with Ghost anymore, it seemed; only a dark veil of terrifying realizations, which had slowly and inexorably wrapped itself around him like a shroud.

"However," Jakob continued in a slightly more lively tone, "you might find someone here, who is even more competent than me when I'm gone. Who knows, perhaps he might even prove to be my nonpareil if he's given enough time as a leader. He has demonstrated perfect enough technological and strategic savvy and skill in front of me when I've seen him working on his orders. I've got my eyes on the perfect candidate… you, lieutenant-commander!" he exclaimed somewhat happily, pointing his still gloved finger at Williams at the weapons controls.

Upon hearing this, the silvery-furred wolf turned around slowly to face his now resigning superior, an undeniable glint of obvious wonderment being present in his ice-blue eyes, "What, sir? What are you saying? That I should replace you? Sir, I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Plus, you've been officially given this position by Pepper. It'd be insubordinate to refuse it!" he said confusedly, staunchly protesting against Ghost's most recent contrivance.

The commander only gave a shrug of exasperation before he – more or less indifferently – elaborated on his decision, starting by answering Williams' exclamation, "Conceivably, but it'd be much more insubordinate if I didn't obey my mandate to protect the members of my team or the Star Fox Team whenever they're in danger, just as it's the case now," he said equably and – in remembrance of something Williams had said earlier – suddenly cocked an eyebrow in surprise, "And don't you worry about replacing me, Williams. As far as I'm concerned, you've got everything it takes. For instance, look at the battle outside and tell me what you see," Jakob demanded authoritatively, opting to test if his estimation had indeed been right.

Williams squinted his eyes and looked through the window at the chaotic scene outside the ship, aglow as it was with the all-consuming light from Solar. Cornerian Arwings stood unwaveringly in front of The Monolith with blazing azure hyper laser cannons, aiding The Monolith in exterminating their ubiquitous enemy by adding their highly energized laser bolts to the stream of energy that the cruiser sent hurtling in the face of the aliens, who dared mount an attack on the Cornerians. The blurry stream of vibrant green and azure laser beams skewered the alien strike fighters effortlessly, tearing their glimmering coppery hulls apart with ease as they launched themselves in a suicidal manner against the Cornerian defences. Naturally, some Cornerians perished due to the massive amount of purple laser fire, which was being sent their way, but those occasional casualties were not enough to allow the alien tides to seep through the newly erected dam of fighters, which the Cornerians had so efficiently constructed on one side of the swirling central horde of alien fighters, which was thankfully also growing smaller by the minute as more and more vessels were vanquished.

After having viewed the scene for some time, Williams turned his attention back to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed and waited for the wolf's estimation of the battle. A report came promptly and unwaveringly from Williams as he spoke up, his voice clear and firm, "It's a battle of chaos, sir. The aliens don't even know what they're doing; they're just throwing themselves at us in the hope of defeating us with sheer numbers. But we have a strategy, and that's why they haven't been successful yet!"

In reply to this, the perspicacious commander gave a wide smile of appreciation – one of the only ones he had given in some time now – and confirmed Williams' correct reading of the situation, "Exactly, Williams! That's also how I construe this sudden attack. I clearly see it as an action made out of temerity instead of courage. They think that they are so much better than us, and their overly ambitious perception of themselves leads them to do such drastic things as this. Doubtless, this could be turned into an immense advantage for our troops by someone who knows how to use that fickle temerity against them. This emotional drive of theirs, if you will, could prove to be a fortuitous chance for us to deliver the final blow. Unfortunately, I won't be there to see it."

With that, Jakob eyed his second in command solemnly and spoke the befitting words for passing on the torch of leadership, "Lieutenant-commander Williams, I hereby bestow upon you the entire leadership and responsibility for the Cornerian fleet operation. All of the ships are under your direct control. In the event that Pepper should ask why you're doing this, just redirect him to me. I'll take full responsibility for whatever happens and for taking this… well… drastic decision."

He turned around and was just about to go when an expression of shamefulness suddenly overcame his facial features. With a compassionate glint in his eye, Ghost uttered his last words of praise to the steadfast members of his crew, "Remember, guys, it pains me immensely to do this, but it would pain me even more if my friend suffered a premature death at the hands of a traitor, and I wasn't there to help her out. Giving Williams my post so that I can hopefully save her is a price I will gladly pay. All I ask of you, Hawthorne and Jackson", he said determinedly, eyeing the slightly grey-furred husky and the young, snow-white arctic vixen, "is to treat him with the same respect and courtesy that you would have shown me, were I still here. Above all, listen to his orders, you two; he knows what he's doing!" Ghost added with a wry smile of amiable certainty, before he grabbed his trenchcoat from Jackson's chair, slipped it on quickly and started making his way towards the hangar, his black coat billowing about him because of the pace.

Just before he was out of earshot, he heard Kyra shouting after him, "You've been an eminent superior and a stout officer of the highest calibre, sir, so what are you doing? Why jump ship now?"

In return, Jakob merely turned his head and looked into her sapphire eyes, flashed an unconcerned smile and said calmly, "Isn't it obvious, Ensign Hawthorne? I'm going out there to save a friend of mine. A very dear fried, that is!"

As he walked briskly away from the bridge after giving this hasty conclusion of his actions, he was pleased that he had given such a concise reason to his crew for what he was doing. Too much elaboration would probably rip open his emotional wounds of terror on Krystal's behalf, and Ghost did not want his crew to see that. Even though their loyalty was probably unmatched, he thought contemplatively as he reached his Arwing, they needed not know the interstitial details.

---

The reason completely eluded her, but as she struggled with keeping her Arwing straight and stable in the hail of super-condensed energy, which Cain unleashed upon her from behind, Krystal knew there had to be a reason for his sudden betrayal. She could just not think of any as matters stood now.

Cain Tyler, the lupine recruit in the Cornerian Army, whom she had gradually begun to trust as her ally in Ghost's absence, had suddenly shed his skin and now revealed himself as the unpredictable psychopath, which she had sensed within him from the start. It pained her that she had not been able to trust her instincts more fully, and that she had discarded their advice about treading carefully around Cain as rushed misgivings on her part.

As Krystal had so often heard Fox recite after a job well done, his father James McCloud had become known for saying the historic words: _"Never give up. Trust your instincts."_ She should have taken more heed to these words than she had done when she had heard them to start with. Unfortunately, it was too late to rectify this bitter mistake, just as this situation proved. Had she trusted her instincts, Krystal might have been able to prevent something as disastrous as this, but much to her chagrin, she was now faced with paying the price of not appreciating and heeding premonitions, however fleeting they may be.

A sudden tremor, which rippled through her craft and made her rock back and forth from the sheer force of it, caused the cerulean vixen to snap out of her all-consuming mental reverie and look behind her, in the direction from which the tremor had originated. Judging from the situation, the tremor was possibly another impact of Cain's lasers against her shield. This suspicion was confirmed just a moment afterwards when another hail of viridian laser fire was unleashed from the laser cannons on the Arwing just behind her.

As Krystal glanced warily over her shoulder, she could once again see Cain's elongated and shrewd-looking face through the cockpit window, still bearing the same grotesque mask of insanity as before, completely unchanged. The sickening luminescent green colour of the laser beams illuminated his sharply contoured face even more, bringing forth the subtle nuances of it: The glistering eyes deep in their sockets, the glittering fangs bared in a contorted grimace or snarl of pure malice and even the delicate hairs in his chestnut fur, which stood on end from sheer anticipation. Judging from his manoeuvres and the precise firing, Cain was not trying to severely damage her ship and destroy it. All he was trying to do was apparently to take out her engines for whatever malicious reason he might have in his twisted mind. Although it was certainly not as bad as destroying the ship, it was bad enough in itself, for who knew what plans he had for her after that part of his betrayal was completed, and he had captured her alive?

With an effort of will, the young Cerinian shook the ensnaring cobwebs of horror and fright from her mind. She needed a clear judgement, at least until she had found a way of dealing with this pressing predicament. After only a moment of thinking, a natural solution came to her. The easiest thing would of course be to break through the throng of alien fighters in order to reach Fox and the others, for no Cornerian pilot on her side had seemed to notice her dire need for aid, occupied as they were with fighting their own battles against the spread-out alien fighter contingents. In a sudden flash of thought, another realization formed itself in Krystal's plagued mind: Perhaps there existed another solution, one less daunting than the almost suicidal act of flying, which was the first and most obvious solution. As Krystal considered the various ramifications, which taking other actions might bring, Cain's image popped up on her comlink screen.

The sight of his insane face magnified on her screen momentarily paralyzed Krystal with numbing fear. As much as she had instinctively swerved and dodged in her ship to avoid his laser bolts just before, as stupefied was she now when this incarnation of malice and insanity showed its fearful visage on the screen of her Arwing, emanating an almost tangible eldritch aura of complete coldness. Cain was undoubtedly bereft of any warm emotions, as it was proved moments later by the condescending, glacial stare he shot her, and the provoking jibe that flew from his lips, his tone soaked in audible menace.

"Oh, I'm so sorry if I scared you, Miss Krystal!" he taunted with mock regret in his voice, baring his fangs in yet another twisted sneer as he stretched the title to the brink of the absurd once again, "I simply have to do this, and as matters stand now, you are my intended target. I received a call a few minutes ago from my hirers, instructing me to capture you, and that I will of course do. And before you even think about doing it, don't try to fly through that barricade of fighters just ahead. They're loyal to me and will follow my every command, so if I ask them to… say, take out your engines for me, you can be certain that they will do as they're told."

The cerulean vixen could not reply adequately. Upon realizing the harsh and brutal nature of her former ally and would-be friend, her willpower had abandoned her completely. In order to restore it, she gazed desperately at the twinkling stars for answers, hoping that their incandescent brightness against the backdrop of the black void would give her some satisfactory sign or answer. It did not, however; they just hung there, statically suspended in the void as any regular celestial body is supposed to. Because of this very deprivation of her characteristic decisiveness and with no way to restore it, the young and terrified Cerinian could only counter Cain's malicious rant – which had now also effectively foiled her escape plan – with one meekly said word as she sped around amongst purple laser blasts and burning Arwings on retreat.

"Why?" she asked feebly, not comprehending at all the motive behind the sudden betrayal; but deep in her heart, she knew that it had to be something of a grand magnitude, since it was strong enough to circumvent the barriers of a seeming friendship between her and Cain.

"Why? Oh, why did he do it? Why did he go and break my heart that way? Why did he shatter my trust in him?" Cain retorted in a shrill, mocking voice and with an averted gaze, contemptuously mimicking her horror-stricken question before he answered suddenly with a shout that caused Krystal to jolt in her seat from terror.

"What's the point of asking "why" all the time, Krystal?! I've heard "why" uttered from countless lips in my time, and each and every one of those imbeciles hadn't realized that there needn't always be a "why" for everything you do! "Why" has hampered me, hampered my actions, prevented me from living fully, and filled me full of vengeance!" he yelled angrily in frustration, his eyes staring daggers at the terrified female Star Fox-member, who was almost on the verge of tears. As the chase continued, the pair inevitably crossed a squadron of Arwings, which was being brutally decimated by a group of persistent alien fighters. Krystal spared a glance at the sight and felt a pit of hopelessness form in her stomach, sympathy for the trapped and burning Cornerian pilots welling up inside her as their Arwings were disintegrated by laser blasts and ravenous flames, and their screams could be heard echoing on the comlink on a far-away frequency. Cain, however, merely nodded his head at the scenario.

"You see, Krystal, asking why something happens all the time can prove to be quite tedious. Why did these men have to die, you might ask. Well, for starters, they were waging war on my beloved allies down on the planet, and if you wage a war, there must be casualties. These men were destined to become such casualties. On the other hand, why should there be a reason for exactly that squadron to die? It might as well be those guys over there!" he said, pointing through his cockpit window to another squad of Arwings, which was about to suffer from a devastating ambush.

As much as Krystal wanted to hail them over the comlink and warn them of the impending danger, she found that she could not. Cain's betrayal and his sudden transformation into a vile being of insanity had left her more indecisive and numb with fear than she had ever experienced. Probably, this was because she had never experienced as harrowing an event as this. She intensively wished that Fox were there at this moment to give her the comfort she so required.

"So you see," Cain continued in his maliciously firm voice, "every occurrence needn't have logical reason behind it to transpire, for there'll always be a set of underlying, more impulsive reasons behind it. The same can be said about my deception and betrayal. Why did I betray the Cornerian Army and volunteer to aid the aliens in their campaign by bringing you down to them? Firstly because these other guys pay me much more than the Army could ever hope to do, and secondly because I felt like it, that's why!" Cain spat furiously, eyeing Krystal with undisguised hate.

"Without having any proof to confirm it, I still felt that the Army was too weak for me when I joined up. They always controlled their recruits rigidly and asked them – and me – "why" they did something they felt like doing in order to tend to their immediate impulses instead of abiding by a set of unyielding rules! And how would you argue logically for a feeling? You can't, my dear, dear Krystal; you simply can't! What you must understand before I end my little lecture now is that there are two fundamental components, from which the entire universe is constructed: Law and chaos. Accept it or reject it; it's entirely up to you," the lupine "recruit" concluded his long rant before studying Krystal yet again through the comlink, a scrutinizing expression plain on his face.

"Hmm… You don't seem overly affected by what I've said, even though I've tried to answer you," he remarked snidely as he studied the furred visage of the cerulean vixen, and indeed, he was right. The young Cerinian hung her head powerlessly, her emerald eyes staring at nothing. Instead, they were glistening with the bitter tears of hopelessness as she realized the full extent of her dire predicament. Her entire demeanour had changed from her usual effervescent one to its exact counterpart; a glum, stiffened mask of overwhelming acrimony. She controlled the Arwing only by instinctual manoeuvres; she was not actively plotting a course or anything else in order to keep on the right track, and this meant that she was slowly, but steadily, drifting towards the roiling cluster of coppery alien strike fighters in the middle of the battlefield in front of The Monolith. This position and way of flying, however, presented a fortuitous chance for Cain to come through with his plan.

"Well, Krystal, this is where the palaver ends, I'm afraid," he said with a sigh and a saturnine expression on his face, as he laid his ship perfectly behind hers and carefully targeted the exhaust ports on the Arwing in front of him with his lasers, "You know how this is going to work out, don't you? After I disable your engines, I'm going to tow you down to the planet and hand you over to the ones who hired me. Then, I'll get paid and my mission will be accomplished… almost!" he said in an eerie tone of voice, shooting her a look through the comlink screen that was distinctly reminiscent of a leer.

Krystal chose to overlook that last gaze, but could not resist the urge to ask, although a tone of noticeable fright made her otherwise melodious voice quaver, "What do you mean by that? "Almost"? As if you haven't inflicted enough suffering already!" she suddenly and angrily snapped, but did nothing more; being in the hopeless situation that she was, the cerulean vixen just needed some way of venting her anger and fright.

In reply, Cain merely flashed her a wicked grin, "Heh, I wish I could tell you, but then again, that'd just spoil the fun when you get to know it down there, now wouldn't it?" he asked menacingly and shot her the leer once again, before he started charging up his lasers, their soft hum being almost like the growl of a fearsome predator in the ears of the terrified vixen, "No matter. It'll all come to you in due course. Now, all I have to do is to take out your engines, and you can be damned certain that I will, now that I'm so close to completing my objective. Goodbye, Krystal!" he stated concisely before he terminated the transmission.

Dreading immensely what was to come, but unfortunately unable to do something sensible about it, the cerulean vixen closed her eyes, thought about Fox and prepared for the stunning shockwave, which would spread throughout the Arwing when her engines were demolished. To her surprise, no shots came. Instead, when she dared open her eyes and look back over her shoulder, Cain had his eyes stiffly fixated on the radar, his brow furrowed in confusion as he was clearly trying to figure something out.

Upon seeing this, Krystal decided to take a look at her own radar, and at the time she spotted the Arwing-signature, which was approaching fast from The Valaria to the west, she also heard a determined voice with a characteristic and unmistakable British accent give an answer to Cain's previous exclamation over the comlink, "Oh no, you won't! I'll make sure of it!"

Swinging her head wildly to the left in order to identify the ship as it came within range, the cerulean vixen sensed only absentmindedly Cain's outburst of rage as he saw the incoming vessel, "What the hell is that? Who is this?" When the Arwing came within range for her to see the pilot, Krystal had an answer to that question.

"Ghost!" she cried joyfully, shimmering tears of sheer emotion and happiness forming in the corners of her eyes as she let her lustrous emerald irises settle upon the craft, which shot through space at a breakneck pace towards their location. The Arwing was trailed by an immense fluorescent tail of purple, luminescent ionized exhaust from the G-Diffusers, almost making it resemble some sort of jagged and metallic shooting star or comet as it streaked through the void, illuminating the sides of ships and cruisers as it passed by.

Cain was obviously very taken aback about this new adversary, who was suddenly entering the fray, for it seemed as if he hesitated with his doings at the sight of the new Arwing coming in. It was as if his entire original plan had fallen to shreds, and that he was now desperately trying to conceive another one. However, the speed of Jakob's approaching Arwing was so great that this very hesitation proved to be disastrous.

With lightning speed, nearly before any of the involved had any time to notice he was there, Ghost's Arwing smashed straight into the side of Cain's craft. To any eventual onlooker, it might have looked ridiculous that two crafts belonging to the same faction could collide in such a seemingly suicidal manner, but nonetheless, it was the case here. The collision was indeed hostile in nature, and the effect of it was just as astounding.

Instead of the wailing, grinding sound of metal slicing into metal that one might have expected, a most spectacular effect occurred as a result of the energy shields, which were in place around the Arwings. A field of luminescent sapphire-blue energy spread out in an overwhelming circular shockwave from the point of impact with a dull thunderous boom, creating a wild surge of unchecked energy emissions. Like an uncontrolled tidal wave, it washed over the two colliding Arwings and pushed them to either side, spinning and whirling, completely out of the pilots' hands. Jakob's Arwing was merely blown some distance back towards Krystal and The Valaria, but Cain's craft suffered a far worse fate.

Propelled by the overwhelming blast, positively riding a wave of energized obliteration, Cain was hurled directly through the swarm of alien fighters, cursing and screaming. Many explosions among the copper-coloured ships could be registered, partially because of the impact of the energy-wave, and partially because of the lupine's Arwing almost ploughing its way through like a comet of the future, spinning wildly off course from its astronomically determined trajectory, its luminescent tail further outlining the way it was pushed through the enemy blockade.

Before disappearing entirely from earshot, though, it was not too late for Cain to shout a few parting words to his intended target along with her newly found companion. As the pair looked at him on their comlink screens, they could make out his twisted and contorted face; in particular the eyes, aflame as they were with insanity and feral ire, "I will not forget this, whoever you are. I'll capture Krystal for my hirers and get my reward. You will see, both of you: You haven't seen the last of me!" he screamed in an insane roar, but this message was abruptly followed by a hard _thud_, which was the sound of Cain smashing his forehead hard against the solid cockpit canopy, presumably because of some unexpected turbulence. As Krystal squinted her eyes against the shimmering splendour of the fighters and the planet, she could just make out Cain's Arwing falling in an uncontrollable spiral towards the green belt of the rain forest located on the main continent of the planet, where other groups of the Army were battling the alien opposition as well.

A slight cough from the pilot in the newly arrived Arwing managed to captivate the attention of the amazed cerulean vixen and forced her to stare in utter disbelief at the figure, who occupied the craft which had effectively become her saviour. Ghost – a bit dazed because of the violent energy surge that had just pushed him around – now regained his lost composure in only a matter of seconds, swept his hair away from his eyes, shook his head in order to clear it of the diffuse after-thoughts of amazement and righted his night-black leather trenchcoat in various places where it had been rustled around on his person and now sat in a messed fashion. In the course of a few moments, it was the true image of Krystal's highly valued human friend which stared back at her from the adjacent Arwing, his otherwise so determined features softening up to make way for a wry, unconcerned smile, as he saw that the young Cerinian was fully conscious and had not suffered any harm.

"Hello, Krystal!" Ghost simply said in an unusually effervescent manner, probably because of the excitement induced in him from the great victory he had just won. When Krystal did not seem to react in the slightest fashion to this happy greeting, the young commander continued in a slightly contemplative mumble, as he absentmindedly and instinctively brushed his trenchcoat in order to get rid of the small flecks of dust, which had inevitably settled upon it, "Truly, this heinous act of betrayal just goes to show that no-one is to be trusted completely. Even those you wholeheartedly place your trust in may turn out to be as traitorous and devious as an erratic gamma flash!" he chuckled in amusement with his distinctive British accent, relishing his own little joke about the physics of the universe compared to the complex mannerisms of any person one might encounter. His goal was also to depict the deplorable situation in a more tolerable way to Krystal, and it seemed like he succeeded, for she gave a quiet laugh over the comlink as well before she launched a veritable volley of questions at his unperturbed persona.

"But how did you…? I mean, how could you…? What was that flash just before?" the young Cerinian blurted confusedly and incoherently, partly out of sheer confusion, and partly out of undisguised amazement and contentment about the fact that her trustworthy friend had returned to her side. He seemed not to mind the questions, though, as he gave her a smile along with a slight relaxed wave of his gloved hand; a sign for Krystal to cool down and take her time. However, Jakob could accurately perceive even the interrupted questions with his notable mental acuity and incisiveness, and because of this, he calmly began to answer her.

"Relax, Krys. Let's take one thing at a time, shall we? How did I realize that you were in danger? Simple; I could see it from the window on The Valaria. There was nothing to doubt. As I saw your Arwing being followed by that psychopath, whoever he was, I double-checked with the radar to make sure it was you, and when I saw that, there was no doubt in my mind about what I had to do: Namely to get him away from you, even if it cost me my position as commander aboard The Valaria. Now, how could I reach you just in time? Also simple; because I simply intended to get him away from you, and didn't stop or slow down to align my aim. If my shields had faltered and I had died in that collision, it would've been for a good cause. And finally, what was that flash?" he repeated equably as he smoothly laid his ship alongside hers in a defensive position, almost instinctively, "A resonance field emission, I would assume. You do know what happens to similarly polarized particles when they connect, don't you, Krystal? Just imagine that effect and multiply it by a factor of one thousand. Then you have a pretty accurate depiction of what happened just now."

Krystal could only nod in reply to his explanations; so moved was she with overwhelming emotions of surprise and happiness that she could not answer him adequately in words. Here, in the midst of this hellish fray, she had suddenly been reunited with one of the only persons she trusted as her ally and irreplaceable friend for all eternity. The cerulean vixen also quickly depicted the effect in her head of the resonance field emission, which he had told her about during one of their very first missions. When similarly polarized particles collided or connected, their polarization would cause them to repel one another. This repulsion would trigger a small emission of kinetic energy, moving outwards from the point of impact. The field across which the energy spread was commonly known as a resonance field, because the emission of energy was almost considered a resonance of particles in physics. Although there was no sound that could be traced, it was dubbed so nonetheless because the waves behaved exactly like sound waves in a resonance blasting outwards.

Still, in spite of all these newly revealed answers, there was an answer to a certain question, which proved to be as elusive as a wisp of smoke for Krystal to comprehend, and since she could not figure it out herself, the cerulean vixen decided to gain the answer straight from her friend. This would also reassure her that it was the unequivocal truth which was spoken, if he answered the question truthfully himself. With a voice that was barely above a whisper because of sheer anticipation and quavered with emotion, Krystal asked Ghost the perhaps most important question of all, "But… why did you save me in the first place? You said yourself a month ago that our cooperation in the field was terminated, so shouldn't you be worrying about your position on The Valaria instead of me?"

A few seconds passed; a few seconds which each felt like an eternity to Krystal, during which her friend did nothing than stare at her with an expression completely devoid of any emotional response whatsoever. However, after these few seconds had passed, she saw him don the most gleeful smile she had ever seen on his aquiline visage before he began to speak cheerfully, affirming the secret hopes that had manifested in her ever since his dauntless rescue:

"Krys, perhaps you haven't grasped this most fundamental of principles yet, but the bond of friendship is a hundred – no, a thousand – times stronger than any officially obtained bond of rank in cases concerning mortal peril and loss of life. This recent scenario was very much such a case, I daresay, so you should feel no need to have this action of mine justified. Your well-being and continued survival means so much more to me than some position of rank aboard a Cornerian battleship, and do you know why? Not only because I care intensively about your well-being through our sense of friendship…" he paused and smiled slyly before continuing, "… but also because I've been nourishing the thought of reforming our team, our cooperation, since I can't deny the obvious fact that it worked beyond any measurable expectation when we worked together, and that such flawless skill might be the stepping-stone we need in order to prevail here in the midst of these truly chaotic conditions," he said broodingly, eyeing the battle dispassionately.

Upon hearing this, Krystal could not keep a cry of surprised joy from escaping her mouth. Deep inside her heart, the young Cerinian had silently hoped for this day to come, where the two long-time friends would reunite and fight for Lylat's continued existence with the undeniable deftness and skill, which they had demonstrated on several occasions. After this joyous exclamation had subsided, Krystal looked her friend in the eye through the slightly tinted glass of the Arwing cockpit windows, but could find no traces of lie or mockery in them – nor could she in his mind as she tried to probe it – only pure, undisguised loyalty and care. Because of this, Krystal almost felt compelled to ask her last question, "What about the words you said a month ago, then, about our cooperation being terminated? Should I just forget them, although you said them in honesty? Aren't they valid anymore?"

In reply, Jakob merely flashed an unconcerned grin, recalling the rather strange moment a month ago before G-Wing's departure from Lylat, where he had declared the ending of their working together in order to keep Krystal safe in the future, "Ah yes, I knew that question would come, and all I can say to you in reply is: Please do so, my dear Krystal. Forget all about them. Admittedly, their validity was dubious at best, even though they came from my own mouth. From here on out, I now officially declare that it's Ghost and Krystal going at it again, just like the old times!" he exclaimed energetically, before turning his attention slowly towards the whirling multitude of coppery alien fighters, which stood between them and the home-world of the aliens – not to mention Fox and the others. As he eyed the swarm of pugnacious fighters, his gaze assumed its natural callous glint, which came over his eyes whenever he was confronted by a challenge, which required merciless killing combined with unparalleled determination.

"Now, Krys, what do you say to my proposal that our first action as a re-formed team should be to break through that swarm and rejoin Fox and the others on the other side, hm? Hopefully, we might also succeed in lessening the alien bombardment upon our own forces if we can cause some commotion in their ranks. It's a chance worth taking, but indeed, I know not if your determination has weakened because of my more or less systematic absence from your side during this mission?" Ghost asked his friend jokingly, the hint of a wry smile playing across his face.

The cerulean vixen did not protest in the least. The only answer he got from her was as affirmative and affectionate as it could be, "On the contrary, my dear, dear friend. It hasn't lessened; it has only grown stronger in anticipation of this moment when our cooperation would hopefully be remade. We've done so much that was nigh impossible in our time, Jakob, so why shouldn't we be able to tackle a bunch of persistent aliens?" she queried confidently, a grin showing clearly on her cerulean face, showcasing her sharp fangs.

Jakob did not wait for long before he gave a simple answer, his characteristic British accent audibly shining through, "Of course you're right, Krystal. Since when have I ever doubted you?" whereupon the two of them – completely instinctively – started charging their lasers simultaneously, their anticipation building along with the energy as they watched the alien fighters, their considerations being exactly the same as though sharing one common eye, which – in a sense – they did with the remaking of their team.

---

"_We won't stand a chance out here if we keep up the strategy we do now. Then we'll just get pummelled into the ground. There has to be some way of beating these bastards, and if there isn't, we might as well realize that we've lost!"_

These dismal thoughts were what swarmed around in Mikki's head as he once again surveyed the scorched earth, which had become the battlefield between his Cornerian Landmaster-division and the third, seemingly impenetrable, alien mound, which had been erected on the terrain of the colonized planet. The multicoloured fire of energy weapons, which spanned the sides of the battleground in fierce enfilade, bathed everything in a sickening and twisted luminescence of green, yellow, red and purple, the sickly hues playing across the jagged shapes of the Landmasters and the hulking shape of the mound, further underlining the atrocious fact that this nascent ground of devastation was soon to become a ground of direct confrontation as well.

The vicious barrage from the incessant alien artillery had more or less slowly pinned the Cornerians against the edge of one of the natural cliffs, which winded through the terrain like a grotesquely enlarged scar in the earth. To add insult to injury, the multicoloured hail of alien plasma fire was still getting closer and closer to the Cornerians as they slowly tried out different firing angles and found some to be more effective than others. The Cornerians were clearly in a pinch, they quickly realized, hopelessness slowly quenching their otherwise battle-ready flame of zeal.

In one of the Landmasters at the front of the formation, which put up a most valiant defence, Mikki hammered furiously at the trigger, sending orb after orb of condensed green pulse emissions flying from his cannon and smashing into the innumerable gun-emplacements on the mound, sending aliens and Sharpclaw flying with each shot. However, the mound proved to adapt the same resilient and unrelenting offence as a hydra, for whenever a particular section of guns had been blasted, they would seem to be down, but soon after they would reawaken and continue to rain death and ruin down upon the unfortunate Cornerians, as if the guns had not taken any damage at all. This puzzled Shield a great deal, for he knew that there was most certainly enough personnel in the mound to keep it going for days, but how the guns could survive a direct frontal blast from a Landmaster-cannon was a complete mystery to him

It seemed as if he was not the only one who had just thought about that particular aspect of the offensive, for just as he had finished that thought, a transmission crackled in from Gaines on Mikki's comlink, his voice distorted by static due to the extreme amount of potent energy being released all around him, "Shield, what the hell do we do? We need to neutralize that mound somehow, but those damned guns on it just won't die! There has to be some way of shutting their operation down, but so far all we've achieved is more hostile laser fire, and that's not exactly our favourite dish, if you know what I mean! What do you propose we do now?"

As he let his eyes sweep contemplatively across the hulking mound in front of him, its silhouette large and imposing in the inky darkness of the night, Mikki silently admired the inextinguishable humour of his rhinoceros colleague, even in the midst of this dire predicament and these seemingly insurmountable odds. That was what distinguished a good and disciplined soldier from the rest; his ability to resort to humour in even the most gruesome of situations. However, he soon found himself mentally brushing these ensnaring thoughts off of his cerebrum in order to better focus on the current threat, which required his military expertise to deal with.

Composed of five long ledges, which ran all along the front of the mound, the alien fortification itself already posed a serious threat. The addition of innumerable rows of gun-emplacements lining each ledge, manned and filled to the brim with the previously seen alien infantry – as well as the biologically enhanced Sharpclaw – only increased the noticeable natural feeling of imperviousness and the capability of repelling attackers, which the mound seemed to radiate along with its glowing waves of pernicious energy and aggressive plasma fire. The entire mound was covered in a metallic layer of flak armour, undoubtedly to protect some vital part of it from a direct hit. This very armour gave the mound a most unsettling appearance as it glimmered in the milky moonlight, which shone coldly from the sky; as if the mound were a powerful entity of a time long lost, now risen from the earth in its glimmering carapace to wreak havoc and devastation once again.

However, what really caught Shield's eye as he meticulously scanned the mound was a small cavity or opening into the mound at the third ledge or tier, which had eluded his sight before for one reason or the other. The opening itself was not particularly interesting; on the contrary, it was what Mikki glimpsed inside of it that made it spectacular. Situated within a small cave in the mound, was what appeared to be a large, blocky structure of metal. Essentially, it resembled a large square box of glimmering metal, with an immeasurable multitude of cables running from it and stretching out onto the different tiers, no matter if they were situated above or below the opening. As Mikki followed the cables with his eyes, he saw that each of them ended at the base of a gun-emplacement, presumably connecting to the gun somewhere on it. He let that thought register in his cerebrum and mulled it about in his head for a good deal of time, trying to figure out a logical solution. However, it was not until he glimpsed another thing about the central "box" that his mind was sent reeling with the overwhelming impulse of perfect understanding: Along the sides of the box, there appeared to be running thick lines or energy veins of a sort, each and every one sparkling with a mysterious, cyan energy, which would at times flare to a blinding incandescent flash at an interval of one minute, almost as if the energy were a pulse of some sort, designed to keep the mighty defensive construct alive.

In a flash of blinding acuity derived from his newly completed process of ratiocination, Shield suddenly understood it all, "Of course!" he whispered almost silently to himself before he bellowed over the din of war to make sure that Gaines could hear him in the tank adjacent to him, even through the comlink, "Harry, I know what this whole thing's about! Those scumbags have installed a local shield generator up there, and it connects to all their guns. That's why their guns won't go down; there's a local shield protecting every one of them!"

Over the comlink, he heard the Cornerian rhinoceros sergeant give an audible groan of exasperation, "Aw, that's just great! Now what do we do? We can't neutralize the guns because there's a goddamned shield up and running, and this mound probably has all the resources needed to keep going for days! We don't have that amount of time, and by the end of this day, we'll all be vaporized if they keep this up. Man, there's nothing we can do!" Gaines shouted uncontrollably in a sudden fit of pique, the sepulchral note of desperation and hopelessness evident in his forceful exclamation.

Mikki eyed the mound one last time; let his eyes sweep across the constantly blazing energy weapons and the entire imposing structure of the whole construct. He noticed the aliens and Sharpclaw running around in seemingly coordinated patterns on the mound, switching between alternate positions in order to confuse the approaching Cornerian armoured division as much as possible. As he had eyed this daunting sight for some time, he did not bow his head in acquiescence to hopelessness as one might have expected. On the contrary, his facial features were suddenly hardened by an almost preternatural look of resolve, which spread out from his innermost self, filling him up as he looked at the ruthless aliens, these lowly and vicious life-forms, which dared oppose him and his Cornerian allies on their path to victory and security for all of Lylat. Looking straight at sergeant Gaines in the Landmaster next to him, Shield only flashed a tiny wry smile before he uttered the basic statement, which had just formulated itself in his determined mind, "You can't do a thing now, but I can!" he said confidently, his steely grey eyes not betraying his steadfastness in the least.

Upon hearing this, Gaines' eyes were practically about to pop out of his head in sheer surprise. Mouth agape, he stared perplexedly at the human sergeant in the vehicle next to him, before he queried tentatively into the newly suggested strategy of a one-man army, "Are you kidding me, Shield? You, against all of them? Let me ask you something: How in the name of Solar do you think you can pull that one off?" he asked Mikki incredulously, a look of complete disbelief on his otherwise battle-hardened visage.

In return, Shield merely stated things as they were, "Well, I can't be positive that I'll succeed, but right now, it's the only constructive alternative we've got. At the very least, it beats sitting around here and doing nothing!" he said harshly, referring to their defensive position.

The only thing he got in return for this was not an angry outburst as might have been expected, but only an exhausted sigh, before Gaines spoke up again, "Alright, Shield. It's your call, but what should we do in the meantime?" the rhinoceros queried curiously, seemingly intent on fulfilling this impulsive plan, now that Mikki's conviction had not seemed to falter in the very least.

As he put in the standard commands for opening the Landmaster's cockpit on his control panel, the human sergeant answered Gaines concisely and clearly, "You just focus on giving me cover. I'll be charging in from the right on foot, so try and focus your shots on the left side of the battlefield. That way, you can hopefully direct their fire away from me, so I won't have to take the full brunt of it. Hey, even I can't stand so much laser fire!" Mikki grinned wryly to Gaines, who only chuckled in return before Shield continued the elaboration of his plan, "Going on foot will be a lot more inconspicuous than thundering towards them in a Landmaster. It may sound suicidal, but that's what I'll do! Anyway, if you can redirect their fire to the left of the battlefield once I begin my run, that'd buy me time to take out some of the guys on the right side. Once that's clear, I'll climb the mound from there, find the generator and blow it to smithereens. Then you guys can finish the job and blow up their guns, since the shields won't be up anymore. Alright?" he asked resolutely, looking the rhinoceros straight in the eye through the tinted windows of his Landmaster-cockpit.

Gaines said nothing to deny him his plan; he merely sent the dauntless human sergeant a stare, which was just as sincere as the one he had just received, before uttering an unequivocal reply, "You got it, Shield. My boys and I won't give them a chance to see you coming, that's for sure. Man, humans are quite resourceful. Heck, once the Army grants me my monthly leave, maybe I should visit your solar system!" he grinned, but returned to his dead-serious demeanour a mere heartbeat after this outburst of effervescence, "Get going, man. We'll hold them off and buy you some time. Good luck!" Gaines said almost solemnly.

Mikki answered by sending Gaines a "thumbs up", opening the canopy to his Landmaster and jumping out on the scorched earth. The minute the sturdy and isolating shield, which the canopy provided, unsealed itself and ended his state of isolation within the cockpit, the terrible keening noises of the laser blasts, which added to the din of war, invaded his ears in one sonorous blur; easily ten times stronger than the already loud rumble he had been able to hear inside his Landmaster. Glancing around quickly to get an overview of the battlefield as he moved along the side of his vehicle in order to reach the compartment with his weapons, Shield swiftly ascertained his current situation.

The mound had expectedly not ceased its relentless firing on the Cornerian troops. The laser- and plasma-blasts were still descending from the sky like a grotesque hailstorm of unbridled energy, glowing in all the visible hues of the spectrum; as if devastating bolts of every type of energy imaginable had suddenly formed in the sky, only to pelt the poor Cornerians. The Landmasters retaliated valiantly by firing concentrated spherical emissions of devastating viridian pulse energy from their cannons, which smashed forcefully against the hardened exterior of the mound, doing little to no damage because of the superior shield installations, which were in place. Suddenly, it seemed as if Mikki's strategy was being heeded by the troops – Gaines must have broadcasted a call – for in one synchronized movement, every Landmaster redirected its cannon a few degrees to the left and began unleashing a massive concentration of ordnance upon the left section of the mound, which counterattacked with fierce plasma fire.

Thinking quickly, realizing that the time window he had been given for this plan to succeed was precariously narrow, Shield found his compartment in the side of his tank, from which he pulled his trusty Cornerian homing launcher and plasma Gatling-gun. He holstered the aquamarine Gatling-gun in the strap at his side, letting its bulky form hang there expectantly, whereupon he swiftly put the massive red tube with a primed projectile on his shoulder and looked through the optical scope at the right side of the mound. Indeed, as he had hoped, the concentration of laser fire from that side was more spread out, now that the Landmasters had redirected their angle of fire. As always, when dealing with his areas of expertise, Mikki's professional instincts took over in this situation, requiring him not to think, since he had done things like this a hundred times before.

As he righted the massive crimson rocket launcher on his shoulder and slowly got into a kneeling position in order to stabilize his aim, Shield's breathing slowed to almost nothing more than an expectant hiss, as he calmed himself and looked once again through his scope at his chosen targets: The majority of the gun-emplacements at the right side of the first platform. Even through the scope, Mikki could see that the slightly sloping side of the mound was lined with small jagged edges and outcroppings; more than adequate for him to scale the defensive construction.

Focusing once more on his breathing, calming himself as much as possible up to this crippling strike, the devoted human sergeant allowed himself a wicked grin as he sighted down the length of the weapon, his finger curling tensely around the trigger as he got the blazing gun-emplacements in his sights and stared at them fixedly. Just before he pulled the trigger, he let a thought pass through his head, directed at the aliens, _"Here's a present for you, you brutal bastards. Keep up your performance, because you've definitely earned this!"_

With that vengeful remark resonating in his head, Shield squeezed the trigger with all his might, unleashing his trademark harbinger of absolute obliteration – the glowing Cornerian rocket – as it was sent streaking through the ebon night with a visible tail of flame and smoke following in its wake, its extraordinary composition making it stand out conspicuously amidst all of the vibrantly glowing laser-blasts. However, none of the participants on the battlefield seemed to spot this easily noticeable bringer of fiery death, for they just kept up their vicious energy-based barrages against one another.

The result of this unfathomable ignorance proved to be as destructive as it was expected to be, for the Cornerian projectile simply continued on its course unerringly, disregarded by the fighting hordes, before completing its function by hammering into the side of the mound with tremendous speed, instantly vaporizing the torso of a Sharpclaw warrior, who had been unfortunate enough to stand in its way. The ultimate result of this plan was certainly as spectacular as could have been hoped for, for in a shockingly clear burst and with a sonorous thundering sound, the rocket exploded outwards in a ravenous flaming sphere of all-consuming orange fire and a mighty shockwave, which sent alien warriors in the vicinity flying or stumbling around. As the scorching blast of fire had subsided, there was no infantry left manning the gun-emplacements on the right side of the mound. That is, if one excluded the piles of ash and charred corpses lying by the guns, their faces twisted in horrible, blackened caricatures of their normal selves, mouths open in unmatched terror and agony at the moment of death. None in the area of the violent conflagration was left standing after this swift and devastating strike… which was exactly what Mikki had wanted in the first place. With his path now clear for the time being, all he had to do was to move in and take the fight straight to his alien adversary; a move he wasted no time in performing.

With admirable celerity and deftness born from hours of training, familiarization and routine with the weapon, Shield quickly reached for the spare rocket dangling in a strap at his hip, ripped it out of its strap and smacked it forcefully into place at the tip of the cylindrical firing tube. It was not because he was certain when or if he would need another rocket, but experience had taught him that it was always wise to arm oneself as fully as one could, lest the occasion present itself where armaments would be desperately needed. With that encouraging thought in his mind, Mikki slung his rocket launcher onto his back, took a couple of deep breaths, prepared himself mentally for a couple of heartbeats as he used the jagged form of his Landmaster as cover, before he suddenly hefted his Gatling-gun and charged across the battlefield.

Thundering through the fierce enfilade like an unstoppable train, which has entered the wrong track, Shield kept going in spite of out-of-control laser blasts smashing down all around him, as if he were an uncanny participant of war who was composed entirely of muscle and flak armour. As he ran, the devoted human sergeant could feel his pulse building with every stride as he bounded across the scorched plains. The mound towered before him, its seemingly impenetrable form looming large ahead, glimmering coldly and ominously in the milky-white moonlight, but Mikki cared not about the imposing sight.

The cacophonous din of war became but a diffuse hiss in the back of his head as he neared the mound more and more, whereupon he began to sight troops slowly making their way towards the gun-emplacements on the massive defensive construct, which had been damaged by his initial rocket attack. The squad walking around on the right side of the first tier of the mound seemed like a motley group, consisting of five alien soldiers armed with automatic plasma-rifles and three biologically enhanced Sharpclaw-warriors, the metallic stripes of surgically grafted and implanted flak armour under their scaly skin shimmering in the moonlight. Slowly, this fearsome group made its way to the previously unmanned guns and plasma-batteries, ready to man them and shoot down the unfortunate bulky human with the large flak-vest and gigantic weapons, who was running directly into their field of fire in a most suicidal manner.

Shield himself did not see his position as directly suicidal. As he ran, his pulse hammered furiously in his ears, drowning out the sonorous booms of plasma blasts and acting as the catalyst for driving his thoughts of war onwards. These thoughts, he knew after a period of consideration, always seemed to indicate the time when he would be going into a sort of battle-frenzy, which he had only felt on some of his very first missions in Lylat with G-Wing, devoting himself fully to the cause of Star Fox and the Cornerian Army, his greatest idols. Already, he began to see ghostly images form themselves on his retina, and dissolve again just as fast as they came.

He already envisaged the high-powered, cerulean plasma-charges of his Gatling-gun ripping through even the most hardened of flesh, leaving the victim crippled and in pain as an act of vengeance on the part of the Lylatians, with him being the hand of punishment… He already envisaged fiery death and destruction from his homing launcher, searing any enemy that tried to stand in his way with his flames of revenge, leaving them to suffer in a painful conflagration… And he envisaged bloody triumph and victory as he took the fight straight to his malicious alien adversary, smashing though flesh and breaking bone with unparalleled fury.

As these thoughts began to gradually increase and dominate his mind-set, Mikki did not care what was sent his way. With the adrenaline flowing through his veins and body like refreshing shockwaves of self-confidence because of the self-induced tension he had put himself in, they could throw anything in the known universe at him, and still he felt as if he would not be deterred by it. However appropriate it might seem, this feeling was put to the test only a moment after it had registered in Shield's cerebrum, for a stray crimson laser-beam from the blazing enfilade slammed down into the earth a hand's width from his feet, but could not avoid singeing his right arm on its way down.

Many other, less sturdy soldiers would probably fall onto the ground and scream shrilly in pain, but for Mikki – who had taken a bit more than his share of laser blasts in his time in Lylat, and who was also pumped up with adrenaline and thoughts of fury – the pain that began throbbing out into his arm from the wound in seemingly tangible shockwaves was not as much excruciating as it was a form of impulse, which cleared his mind from the ensnaring cobwebs of anger, made him grunt in wonder and look up in search of the attackers. However convenient it might seem, the first thing he spotted on the mound was of course the eight-man squad moving towards the previously bombarded laser-cannons on the right side. The sight provoked an immediate response, both in body and mind, as he sprinted closer still.

In his mind, Shield could already see the imminent demise waiting for the group as soon as he got just a little closer. He already portrayed within his mind how he would capture them by surprise, cripple them with his devastating weaponry and still exact vengeance upon them, both for himself and for Corneria or Lylat, for what they had just done to him and his beloved friends from another galaxy. Physically, however, a lot of impulses generated by the brain only added to the building fire of his fury rather than detracting from it. As a ghostly resonance within his mind, Mikki could hear the dying screams of the aliens, whimpering and begging for mercy through quavering notes of suffering. He could smell the foul, yet intoxicating blend of acrid smoke mixing with ferrous blood, and he could almost feel the soft and satisfying feeling of his clenched fists smashing into the enemy opposition. This sudden overwhelming flux of thoughts caused his battle-frenzy to be complete, resulting in him letting out a blood-curdling feral roar of ferocious rage, fury and anticipation as he charged, while effortlessly ripping his Galing-gun from its strap at his side and aiming it at his eight chosen targets.

Upon seeing the roaring human charging towards them with an unprecedented fervour found only rarely on a Lylatian battlefield, the aliens were of course noticeably dumbfounded and confused as this kind of new threat approached them. Because of this very confusion, they held their fire with the plasma-rifles they were carrying and sent each other wary glances that did not betray their frightened demeanour. How were they going to deal with it? Everybody in the group craved an answer, but nobody got one.

As suddenly as lightning from the sky, the three massive and hulking Sharpclaw-warriors were rent with an unimaginable hail of cyan plasma beams, which tore through both their natural scales and their artificially constructed and implanted armour like a hot knife through butter. Over their shrill roars of pain and screams of terrible agony as they limply fell to the ground in spasms, riddled with large, smoking holes and with their scaly and muscular bodies bereft of the natural ferocity they once held, the five aliens could hear the muffled droning of a Gatling-gun somewhere below as more energized projectiles in the forms of beams slammed into the mound wall behind them. By throwing themselves flat on the ground, they effectively took cover from the ensuing hail of shots.

However, as suddenly as it had come, the vicious barrage and onslaught by a human stopped, giving way for an almost unnatural silence at the right side of the first tier of the mound. Cautiously, one of the aliens stood up and went some distance down the tier in order to ascertain their status. He looked warily over the edge of the tier… and was promptly knocked flat on his back with a high-pitched scream of surprise and pain as something thrown collided with his forehead with a wet crunching sound, landed on the ground and rolled ever so slowly towards the four other aliens, who were sitting in a cluster some distance away from their unfortunate comrade. To them, the thrown weapon which had just knocked out their friend looked like a peculiar, spherical yellow stone at first, with strange blue dots lining the sides of it. They had never seen such a thing before, and they very much wondered where this belligerent extraterrestrial below got his weapons from. However, as they saw the three crimson flashes, which followed one another in rapid succession after some time, they all knew that it was too late. The device had rolled inexorably into the middle of their cluster, and there was no way for them to get it away. The aliens only had the time to share one last terrified look before they embraced their unavoidable demise.

The Cornerian infantry grenade exploded with a deafening boom and an amount of physically generated fire and energy, the explosion moving outwards in a small shockwave and scattering the body parts of the four unfortunate alien warriors all over the tier. The fifth one, who was initially knocked out by the grenade, stirred slightly on the ground where he had fallen, rose with a groan and a hand on his bleeding forehead, turned around and viewed the full extent of the damage with a frightened look of incredulity conquering his facial features. He saw the repugnant crimson blur of body parts, blood, entrails and heads, which was all that was left of his fellow soldiers, coating the far end of the right section of the tier, along with the Sharpclaw-warriors riddled with holes from the violent plasma-barrage which had originated from below. Not knowing what else to do in this ominous situation, the lone infantryman cursed and turned from the ghastly sight, walking towards the side of the mound in the hope of stopping any eventual intruder, who dared come up from that side, since he could not think of any other thing, which was sensible to do under these dire circumstances.

The thunderous blur of noise from the incessant energy weaponry lining the mound continued hammering in his ears as energy charges were constantly let loose from the gun-emplacements in order to halt the persistent Cornerians in their tracks, but he did not care about the progress on the actual battlefield right now. Right now, all he cared about was the fact that the first team, which had manned the guns on the right side, and then his own squad, had been taken out by an extremely violent, destructive and effective force, possibly consisting of that lone extraterrestrial, which seemed to be allied with the Cornerians. The lone alien infantryman gripped his automatic plasma-rifle tightly, finding reassurance in the firm feeling of the weapon against his palms, which were soaked with the cold perspiration of angst. Moving forward one wary step at a time, he was not far from reaching the right edge of the tier, when something emerged from below and climbed onto the tier; something which made his blood run cold and paralyzed him with ineffable fear, effectively stunning him and reducing his walk to a complete standstill born of the utmost horror.

A large, burly and muscular form climbed over the edge of the tier on the right side of the mound and heaved itself up on its feet – which were encased in a pair of sturdy military boots – with a display of raw strength, standing only a couple of paces away from the terrified alien. Through the inky shadows, which the vague moonlight cast on the newly appeared figure, the alien infantryman could see his uniform, which was apparently made up of a T-shirt, a heavy flak vest, camouflage pants in a desert pattern and two gigantic weapons: A massive, cobalt-blue Gatling-gun hanging casually at his side and an enormous, crimson rocket launcher slung across his back. Strapped to his vest were what appeared to be two spherical grenades, although it was a bit difficult to tell because their form was somewhat peculiar, the colours were a bit flamboyant – an almost lambent yellow with blue glassy circles on it in places – and because there were three customized straps, in spite of there being only two grenades…

After a short process of thinking, during which the alien just gaped in sheer surprise at the newly arrived interloper, who simply cocked his head and smiled wryly at the soldier, the lone infantryman understood it all as the solution dawned upon him like lightning from the sky. The missing grenade, the rocket that had smashed into the mound to begin with, the Gatling-gun… He was looking at the extraterrestrial, which had charged the mound mere moments before and killed his team with the use of the destructive armaments, which he had all evidenced first-hand. Feeling a sort of weak resolve fill him up from the inside – daunted as he was by the truly imposing sight of the human sergeant – the alien soldier started to raise his plasma-rifle, albeit with an initial hesitation, which immediately proved to be his demise.

Before the alien even had time to squeeze the trigger as much as an inch, Mikki's right hand shot forth in a display of blinding speed and clamped itself around the top of the infantryman's head in an iron grip. As he felt the excruciating pain spread throughout his skull, the alien trooper dropped his plasma-rifle immediately and squealed once in a shrill note of anguish and deadly angst, before Shield cut this one sound short by violently smashing the head of the alien into the rocky and jagged wall of the mound with a grunt of exertion and with all his might. The head collided with the sharp rocks with an unpleasant wet crack as the skull was broken in various places, and when Mikki let go of the already dead alien, the body left a visible trail of a sticky red substance smeared on the wall as it slumped to the ground before lying completely still, its broken face and wrongly proportioned head staring blindly up into the sky, the tell-tale line of blood glimmering ominously in the moonlight.

"_Well, that takes care of that!"_ Shield thought to himself contently as he looked around on the devastation he had caused, his gaze lingering at the puddle of remains from his grenade and the broken head of his latest adversary, before he started to climb the side of the mound determinedly yet again on his way to the third tier, ignoring the gun-emplacements farther away, since he did not have any time to spare if the Landmaster-division was to survive, _"Now, let's see if I can find that damned shield-generator and end this stupid resistance!"_


	12. Chp 10: Passing Your Zenith

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Well, my friends, here we go again! Another chapter of CtA for you... and also the last for some time, I'm afraid, since many other things are beginning to occupy my time at the moment. However, rest assured that when one of my holidays comes around in approximately three weeks from now, I'll have plenty of time to write again. And believe me, the chapters that I'm going to write after this one will be a lot easier to write than the others, since - curiously enough - I've thought much more about the action in them than in the previous chapters. So, in short, just because a break in updates will ensue after this chapter, CtA is NOT dead under any circumstances! I've given myself the task of completing this story, and you can be certain that I will do just that.

So, until my next update, see you... I really hope that you like this chapter as much as you've liked the others, and that it will be enough to keep you occupied between now and my next update. As always, reviews are very much appreciated!

**Chapter 10: Passing Your Zenith**

_(No log entries recorded during the offensive, since every member of Star Fox and G-Wing are engaged in combat.)_

An eerie and ominous silence had once again blanketed the hollow in the jungle even after the Exterminators had disappeared from the ledge on top of it. One might perhaps think that this was the silence as it was meant to be, but if one listened closely, it was not natural. All of the components, which were subconsciously part of the state referred to as "natural silence", were missing; not a wind blew, not a leaf rustled, not even a bird chirped. Everything had in one moment been reduced to being dead and silent, just as it had happened to John's valiant comrades, the Cornerian marines.

Saber had watched the merciless slaughter from his sequestered – and originally involuntary – sanctuary in the bushes, and at that time, his eyes had been smouldering with the dark flame of anger. However, now that the threat was over and the enemy was gone, he allowed that flame to turn into a violent blaze, extending and igniting as far into his personality as his very soul, as he recalled the dreadful memories and pictures again; memories which would forever be an ineradicable part of his mind:

He remembered quite distinctly and clearly how Reynolds – quite symbolically, since he was the leader of the team – had been the first to fall because of the precise barrage, his face and head being partially disintegrated and charred by a powerful, energized crimson laser blast from one of the wrist-mounted laser-cannons of the Exterminators. His death was presumably quick and painful, for the reserved tiger had said nothing at all as he fell powerlessly to the ground, bereft of his previously unyielding zeal and adamant attitude. From there, executing the rest of the wounded marines from The Spectres had proceeded swiftly and effectively, without wasting any unnecessary time. Lamont had been executed hereafter with a quick shot to the throat, allowing her to gag out her last words as the flesh of her throat was seared shut because of the intense heat from the blast.

The panther Cosby and the husky Anderson, the two assault troopers of the team, had not been given many seconds of existence in this world after the primary incapacitating hit, for no sooner had the order been given that two shots were sent their way, colliding straight with their faces and effectively incinerating their still-living brains while simultaneously frying their eyes. The falcon scout Mason had been the last surviving marine in the hollow after all of his comrades had perished, and also he only managed to send the enemy a mocking grin, before his chest was violently ripped open by a controlled flurry of laser beams, killing him instantly and sending him to the ground in wild spasms and a spray of blood. When their bloody work had been done and they had registered no further life-signs from the bodies in the hollow, the Exterminators had slowly begun to shuffle through the undergrowth, presumably heading for the enemy HQ, wherever in this jungle that may be.

As John replayed this ghastly movie within his head, inevitably prompted by his surroundings, he stepped warily out from the bushes with his blaster clenched in his left hand, while the right was situated near the hilt of Ragetooth on his back. He laid eyes on the darkened hollow in the middle of the night on this unusually fast-moving planet, cautiously moving out amidst the scorched vegetation and the shadow-like bodies of his fallen friends. As the young human lieutenant approached the gory sight, he could see that their eyes were averted – the ones who had eyes left at all – and looked up at the sky at the moment of their death. However, Saber somehow felt it as if these glassy and expressionless eyes were all looking at him, blaming him for the misery and misfortune, which had so suddenly befallen the group of brave marines. This impulse, triggered by the imagined stares of penance from the bodies in front of him, caused him to suddenly sniff loudly one single time and take off his trustworthy cap in respect for the dead, in whose middle he now stood.

"Hey guys, I'm so goddamned sorry that this had to happen to you. This, of all things: A freaking ambush. I told you that we should just make a run for it, but who was it who absolutely wanted to take the stealthy approach?" he said somewhat angrily, before his tone smoothened again to something more tolerable, "No, it's not in my place to get angry with you. Sorry. Anyway, I… just never wanted this to happen and…" here his voice quavered a bit with sorrowful emotion before he got it under control again, "… I hope that whatever place you're going to now proves to be much better than here!"

With that, John quietly sat down amidst all of the bodies. It was a fitting little speech for inaugurating what had effectively become the graveyard of the fallen marines. Saber did not often express pure and undisguised emotion, but this case was completely different, since he had fought side by side with the marines, gotten introduced to them, and met Mason who was as devil-may-care as himself. In short, he had met a group of efficient Cornerian troops, whom he had befriended… and now, these troops and friends lay sprawled out on the ground at his feet with large bloody holes in their chests and heads, almost unrecognizable to John. With a glum gaze of sorrow cast at the dead bodies in the hollow, the young lieutenant realized the undeniable fact: They would now forever be consigned to the all-consuming darkness of oblivion and this night.

Suddenly, amidst his contemplative reminiscing and reverie, the Cornerian comlink around Saber's wrist began to beep frantically, luckily on a low volume, so that his position would not be compromised. Startled by the sudden sound, the young lieutenant jerked nervously before pressing himself against one of the same piles of logs as the marines had used, in order to provide himself with cover during his transmission with whoever was calling. Lowering his voice to a tense whisper, John raised his comlink to his mouth, pressed a small button on it to initiate the transmission and spoke into the compact device, "Yeah, Saber here. Who's this?"

An answer came back, delivered by a characteristically gruff and hoarse voice partially obscured by static because of the long range of the call. This characteristic voice could only belong to one prominent Lylatian, John knew, and his inference was confirmed as he heard the speaker identify himself, "Saber, this is General Pepper calling from Cornerian central command. Our instruments have suddenly registered a drastic drop in the life-signs of the marines you're following, and this was rather alarming to us. What's your status?" the canine general asked authoritatively over the comlink, the sincere note in his voice not betraying his concern when it came to knowing the condition of his marines.

Initially startled by the bluntness of the question, Saber allowed himself one last frightened look at his fallen companions in the hollow darkened by the veil of twilight, as if to verify to his worried mind that they were truly dead, and that none of them would suddenly rise from their death-like state of injury. Seeing as none of them made any sudden movements or gave off any revealing life-signs, this second affirmation of their deaths only made the anger and sense of abandon within John grow like a mass of water restrained behind a dam, threatening to flow his very being. However, his rationale was strong enough for him to know that now was not the time to fly into a blind rage because of the unfortunate things, which had just transpired, and as such, Saber let his frustration show in his answer to Pepper instead.

With vehemence audibly dominating his tone of voice, John gave a concise report of his situation, still in the same tense hiss as before, "My status, sir, if you want to know, is that they're dead… they're all dead, you hear me?!" he suddenly and abruptly shouted, not able to restrain his rage and sense of failure from overriding his logical sense, "There's only me left. I tried to warn them, but of course they didn't listen to me… and now, I've had to pay the price by watching my entire group getting blown into next week right in front of my eyes by those alien scumbags… while I was unable to do a thing about it, sir!" the troubled, young human lieutenant emphasized, sorrow plain across his gaunt features as he spoke the sentence, his voice seeming also to quaver with grief.

For the shortest of moments, Saber paused contemplatively before he let a woeful smile conquer his facial features as he spoke up again, "So yeah, as they usually say in these situations: Command, please advise. Personally, I'd like to just find their base and kick their sorry butts for what they did to my team!" he said, anger seething subtly in his voice, his thirst for vengeance dominating him once again.

However, this flaming impulse was subsequently quelled by a sensible piece of advice from Pepper, "Negative, Saber! Do not engage the enemy directly!" the general forcefully ordered before continuing in a softer tone of voice, "Our preliminary scans of their main HQ indicate a larger concentration of sentries and personnel than we had initially come to expect. In other words, if you went in there, you'd be dealing with a force that was way beyond the capacity of one man… even one as skilful as you, lieutenant," Pepper complimented him, "However, there might be a possibility that an entire team of, say, three or four people could fight through this initial resistance and take the base…"

Here, Pepper trailed off and lost himself in thought for a moment, undoubtedly trying to conceive a strategy which would coincide with the odds that John was facing. He returned on the line with the staunch note of resolve in his voice, "Listen up, Saber! I have a mission redirect for you, a new objective. I think I may have found a solution to our little problem here. I'll notify your G-Wing team-mates at their positions about your current situation and order them to meet up with you as fast as they can. From there, I want you and your team to use any means necessary to infiltrate the base of these aliens and put a stop to whatever operation they're planning. Shutting them down has suddenly become a matter of the highest priority, since we now know that they can somehow foresee and counter our attempts at sending regular forces against them. However, you and the other guys aren't regular in that sense of the word, so perhaps your… ahem… untraditional methods are just what we need to disrupt their thing here. Is that clear, lieutenant?"

Upon hearing that Pepper did want them to go through with an attack on the enemy HQ, John could not prevent a grin of feral contentment to play across his face, feeling his most primordial instinct of vengeance rejoice at this chance of being unleashed. Trying to keep his voice steady so that it did not quaver too much with unbridled glee, the human lieutenant answered his Cornerian superior energetically and enthusiastically, "Oh, I'm clear, sir… I'm as ready as I can be; just say the word. But, you know, I got the idea that you don't want me to move in just now, so what do you want me to do until then?" he asked wonderingly.

The canine general's reply came immediately, since the solution to the lieutenant's problem was really quite elementary, "Find someplace safe to hide and rest, Saber. It'll be a lot easier for you and your friends to navigate through the jungle when it's light. Plus, I think your mind needs some time to stabilize itself and reflect over what's happened today, and as you probably know, you do that best subconsciously. That's my orders for now; I'll contact Shield and Ghost once I finish this transmission and let them know about their new objectives. Report back to me tomorrow when you've regrouped and are ready to move out, understood?" Pepper asked determinedly in his gruff voice, and – upon hearing John's affirmative response – terminated the connection.

Saber crouched for a while behind the log, making sure no-one in the vicinity – if there was someone at all – had heard or otherwise intercepted his transmission and was now coming for him. When he had waited long enough and made sure that there was no-one around who could pose an immediate threat, the gaunt human lieutenant dressed in his dusty-green vest, grey-black uniform and cap brushed his jet-black hair from his eyes, slowly stood up from his crouch and eyed the crumpled remains of his marine-comrades one last time, his eyes radiating nothing but pure pity as he raised a hand solemnly to his cap. Once he had paid his last respects to his fallen friends, he checked the satellite uplink on his comlink by swiftly pressing a button on the compact device. On the small screen in the device, a satellite image popped up, displaying a map of the jungle in his nearest vicinity. Luckily, the range was wide enough to pinpoint the alien headquarters as well, which were situated precisely in the middle of the jungle in the form of a circular structure, glowing an ominous red colour on the satellite image because of the vast amount of energy, which was situated there. Such a concentration of energy at one place had to mean an equally large concentration of living creatures, some of which bearing the responsibility for the death of his newly found Cornerian comrades.

With that encouraging thought lodged in his head, his customized blaster in its holster at his hip, and Ragetooth in its sheath slung across his back, John began wandering through the hollow towards a point in the jungle, which showed up on his uplink. It was practically a small clearing right in the middle of some trees, which almost formed a thick barricade around the open area. Furthermore, the area seemed to be a suitable length from the base; neither too long so it would take days to go there on foot, nor too short so that one of the enemy recon patrols might disturb Saber in his much-earned sleep. As John walked towards his newly found destination, the tall trunks of the trees flanking him once again on either side, he could not help but smile glumly at his next realization: As much as it was unknown to the Exterminators and whoever controlled them on the base, as much was it true that they would actually have an extra guest sleeping in front of their door tonight.

That guest was Death, in the form of Saber.

---

With eyes full of wonder, the five alien troopers watched in bafflement as the small metallic sphere almost seemed to sail flawlessly through the air before landing on the third ledge of the mound, where they were currently situated, with an audible _clang_ of metal touching rock. Still dazed by the ongoing Cornerian bombardment of their fortification, the aliens' processes of thought went slower than normal, and that was the reason for them not identifying the object as a Cornerian infantry grenade before it was too late. As the little yellow sphere began rolling down the ledge towards them, they had only inferred by that time that the object had to be thrown from below, in order for it to glide through the air like that and land as precisely as it did. When some moments had passed and they had realized the true nature of the object, the wonder in their eyes changed to plain, undisguised horror. However, it was already too late to do anything about it, since the device had inexorably come to rest at their feet, and was now giving off its trademark crimson flashes; its own signal of death.

As it finally exploded, the vanguard of five alien troops perished in the ensuing conflagration, screaming in intense agony as their skin was incurably charred and their inner organs burned to ash. The three Sharpclaw-warriors accompanying the aliens, however, did not suffer this gruesome fate, for when they saw the piece of explosive ordnance come flying over the edge, they had retreated some way down the tier towards the cavern with the shield generator, grumbling orders to each other in their guttural tongue of hisses and growls. This wariness also gave them the chance to try and intercept the human interloper, who just now heaved himself up on the far side of the tier, which was coated in the scattered and charred remains of the alien vanguard. Since they had been given that chance, they might as well use it, and that was what they intended. Gripping the hilts of their melee weapons tightly, the three armoured reptilian warriors waited with barely restrained anticipation. The group consisted of two smaller Sharpclaw armed with rusty one-handed maces, and one hulking grey and muscular specimen, which appeared to be the leader. This one cradled his double-headed two-handed battleaxe lovingly in his hands, a deep snarl of expectation reverberating in his scaly throat.

Just as Mikki pulled himself up from his climbing position, the leading grey Sharpclaw roared with rage and pointed his battleaxe at the human sergeant. Immediately, the smaller Sharpclaw understood his order and charged at Shield, maces held high and the froth of anger coating their elongated jaws. However, they found themselves abruptly stopped on the way, since they ran smack into a sundering hail of plasma-fire from Mikki's Gatling-gun, which he had expertly whipped out from its strap at his side with lightning reflexes in order to riddle the approaching threat with fierce fire. As the front troops fell to the ground in spasms with weak screams of pain, their maces tumbling over the edge as they fell from the powerless hands that had wielded them, Shield fixed his attention on the larger Sharpclaw, which stood further back on the ledge and waited for him. Its fangs were bared in a feral grin of malice, and its scaly tail swished slowly and expectantly back and forth behind it.

Mikki returned the smile as he slowly reached for the sheath, which was located on his left ankle. From the sheath, he withdrew his extra-large combat-knife, effectively the equivalent of a shrunken machete, its polished and sharpened blade glimmering ominously in the moonlight. For the shortest of moments, it seemed as if the Sharpclaw cocked its head approvingly, as if to inspect or acknowledge the weapon which the sergeant now grasped in his right hand, before it hefted the battleaxe and charged with an insane roar of feral ire coming from its mouth. Shield returned the favour by emitting his own blood-curdling battle-cry and rushing forward as well, in order to meet with the Sharpclaw approximately on the middle of the tier, just in front of the cave with the generator.

As they met, each combatant had his own action in mind, which he did not hesitate before executing. Using the natural momentum it had built up from the charge, the reptilian warrior struck first by swinging its axe like a club, swatting Mikki on the side of his head with the flat of the blade. Shield's world exploded in anguish and was immediately sent reeling in a vivid and blinding flash of red, mentally projected colours and pain as the human sergeant fell over on the ground powerlessly, a long groan of agony escaping his lips as he collided with the rocky earth. Bleeding slightly from the side of his head – and pretty surprised himself that this blow alone had not crushed his skull – he saw the massive Sharpclaw looming over him through his now blurry eyesight, baring its fangs in yet another malicious smile before bringing its monstrous weapon down in an overhead swing, undoubtedly intended to split Mikki's skull open by the sheer force of it.

However, the melee-oriented sergeant had predicted the move and countered it simply by suddenly veering off to the side, rolling across the earth. This made the axe crash forcefully into the ground and lodge itself there, and as the Sharpclaw grunted while trying to pull it up again, Shield saw his opportunity in the form of the exposed side of his adversary as he stood up carefully. It was not coated in armour and the scales there seemed to be pretty soft. Having seen this, Mikki did not think twice before he ran forwards, lunged at the creature and thrust the long and broad blade of his knife into the side of the Sharpclaw with all his might. With a wet crunch, the weapon struck home, cutting through scale, bone and flesh with ease, before its tip finally stopped at one of the bulbous inner organs, which Shield expertly severed by making a forceful flick of his wrist as part of pulling his knife out again.

The monstrous creature immediately reared upon feeling the intense pain, emitting an ear-splitting, quavering roar or scream of agony, the flame of feral ire igniting in its orange eyes as it looked at its newly obtained wound. A virtual rivulet of crimson blood was flowing rapidly from the gash in its flesh, and it could also feel the excruciating pain inside of it where Mikki had left a serious wound on one of its inner organs. To top it off, the burly human sergeant stood in front of the reptilian warrior, swinging his knife with the stained crimson blade tauntingly back and forth in front of him, smiling a mock, apologetic smile. This sight only enraged the Sharpclaw further, as it was evident by its ferocious snarl and its consequent charge. Despite the otherwise horror-inducing sight of a wounded, bleeding and frenzied Sharpclaw charging towards him, axe held high, Shield calmly stood his ground, watching the maddened creature approaching in a blind rage. Deep down, however, he was as attentive and alert as could be, because of one particular thing:

From all of his melee-encounters all across Lylat, he could extrapolate one universal conclusion. Stupid enemies were easy to fight, and angered foes even easier, but mix the two together and you would be faced with an awesome enemy, which could easily prove to give you the fight of your life. Still, in the last crucial seconds before the Sharpclaw reached him, Mikki managed to conceive a viable combat strategy.

Parrying high and feinting low, Shield effectively tricked his enraged opponent. As the Sharpclaw came within range and swung its deadly weapon at him in yet another overhead swing, he raised his own weapon in return with the flat side of the blade stretched out in front of him in a strange angle, making the attack of the Sharpclaw a mere glancing blow as the battleaxe was deflected by the combat-knife and slid harmlessly off the blade. He then made a vicious slash against the creature's abdomen with his blade, as if he were going to cut that open as well. Not intent on letting him wound it one more time, the grey hulking Sharpclaw expertly shifted its grip on the battleaxe and brought it down in front of it in a totally defensive parry.

However, since Mikki's attack was only a feint, it was much easier for him to change direction with his knife than it was for the Sharpclaw to break its newly entered stance of total defence. This resulted in Shield suddenly reversing the grip on his knife with a practised flick of the wrist, allowing him to break the curve against the Sharpclaw's abdomen and instead let his blade follow another trajectory by changing his move in mid-slash. This new course was a straight, swift line upwards towards the chin of the reptilian warrior, which the tip of the knife pierced easily with another damp crunch as the jawbone was crushed, making the monstrous creature gurgle and roar shrilly in excruciating agony, before Mikki with an amazing display of strength forced his now blood-soaked knife through the thick cerebrum of the Sharpclaw with a single powerful thrust.

As soon as the sergeant gave his knife the final thrust into the brain of the Sharpclaw with a grunt of exertion, it was as if an electrical current passed through the creature for the shortest of moments. Beneath its grey-scaled skin, all of its muscles seemed to ripple intensively with unseen energy before they all went limp and relaxed. The flame of anger, which had been burning so clearly in its eyes, was also promptly extinguished and replaced with the glazed veil of death, which slowly began to cover its now lifeless eyes. Shield held his pose for a few moments, relishing the joy of having impaled such a huge Sharpclaw on his knife and defeated it in battle, even though his right arm and hand were completely soaked in crimson fluids. As he finally pulled his knife out of its head again – and was thus not holding it up – the Sharpclaw simply fell forward stiffly as a newly cut down tree, colliding with the ground with a resounding _thud_. After that, it did nothing; it only lay completely still, bleeding from its ruined head.

Satisfied with his own work, Mikki cleaned the blade of his knife on the scales of the dead Sharpclaw before putting the deadly melee weapon back in its sheath on his leg. After having admired his kill for some more time, wondering in the process about just what these Sharpclaw were doing here of all places, the devoted human sergeant banished the blinding thoughts of self-appreciation from his mind and focused on his current assignment: To destroy the shield generator. Conveniently enough, the generator was situated in a cavern practically next to him and the fallen Sharpclaw-warriors. Cautiously, Shield whipped out his Lylatian Gatling-gun before sticking his head around the corner of the cave, which shook because of the undying Cornerian bombardment of the mound.

Inside the domed cave stood the large and bulky shield generator. Even when seen close-up, it did not look like anything other than a metallic box aglow with cyan energy, identical to what Mikki had glimpsed at a distance. He knew that this was the only thing, which caused the guns on the mound to be so resilient in the face of even as deadly ordnance as the one delivered by the Landmasters. However, he was now going to put an end to that particular resilience.

Looking over his armaments contemplatively, Shield smiled broadly as he discovered his remaining Cornerian infantry grenade dangling from its strap on his vest. He had used one at the lowest tier as he began his ascent, and yet another one at this tier, the third, in order to clear it of hostiles. However, Mikki had not had any reason to use one on the fourth tier, since the right side of it, where he appeared as he climbed the mound, was deserted, oddly enough. At least, there were no foes in the immediate vicinity on that tier, which required prompt killing in order for him to stay safe, so he had just continued moving up to the third tier, where he had used his second grenade to clear the way, but had ended up fighting the Sharpclaw.

Fingering the device tenderly, Shield ripped it out of its customized strap and eyed this flamboyantly coloured pinnacle of Cornerian military invention for a moment. Just before he armed it and threw it into the cave, making it land right in front of the generator – actually resting against its base – the valorous and devoted human sergeant had one last thing to say to the alien troopers, who had so tormented and laid waste to his highly respected Cornerian allies – even though they could not hear him.

"You know, you alien bastards, whenever you do something stupid, you can bet your lives that it'll come back sometime and bite you again, and usually, it hurts a bit. But the pain you'll feel this time around will be ten times as strong as the stupid thing you did, and do you know why? Because no-one, absolutely no-one, harms the Cornerians when Shield's around to see it! If you do that, the punishment will be most severe, and I'll be the one to deliver that punishment. And since I'm the heavy weapons expert of Team G-Wing… well, let's just say I know a lot of ways to kill people; ways involving a lot of pain. Eat this, you assholes!" he grumbled glumly, finally feeling like his exacting vengeance upon the aliens had been fulfilled as he threw the grenade into the cave, pivoted around on the spot and ran in order to get to safety.

Sprinting along the third tier of the mound in order to reach the jagged rocks on the right side, which he could use as a ladder down, Mikki spared a glance over his shoulder. The incessant wave of energy delivered by the alien gun-emplacements still persisted, firing their usual never-ending hail of multicoloured lasers, which streaked through the dark night, clashing in mid-air with the wave of viridian, spherical pulse-blasts, which originated from the still active Landmasters. As he saw that sight, Shield could not help but grin broadly. Apparently, more was needed to deter Gaines and his men in the Landmasters from finishing their objectives than a defensive construct bristling with guns. Finally, Mikki spotted the end of the tier approaching, vaguely outlined in the moonlight, and as the human sergeant began his descent on the outcroppings sticking out of the mound, his armaments rustling about on his body because of the hectic activity, the anticipated reaction happened.

The grenade, which he had placed in the cave with the shield generator, detonated, creating a violent outburst of unbridled cyan energy, which blasted out of the cave in an unimaginably powerful conflagration of ravaging flame and unchecked energy. This devastating shockwave held so much energy that the walls of the cave, which were facing the battlefield, simply disintegrated. They crumbled to dust because they could not stand the pressure of the energized explosion, just as it happened to some most unlucky troops, who could not get themselves away from the explosion before it consumed then entirely, leaving behind only fine traces of dust and bodily remains as it finally dissipated.

The entire mound trembled when this happened, as if it were a large animal, which was fatally wounded and suffered from convulsions of pain as a result. These sudden tremors caused some unfortunate Sharpclaw-warriors and alien soldiers to be flung over the edge, screaming in deadly angst as they fell down to meet their painful demise by colliding with the earth. The wet cracking sounds a few moments afterwards confirmed their fate to attentive ears, and as it happened, these ears belonged to Shield, who clung intensively to the side of the mound as it was shaken by the abrupt tremors, which rippled through it because of the vast emission of energy. Carefully proceeding downwards one jagged outcropping at a time, the human sergeant used all of his available strength – which was soon depleted due to the great amount of exertion he had just faced – to hold on and cling to the rocky side of the mound every time a tremor erupted before climbing further down, as if he were an insect clinging tenaciously to its chosen prey.

It was as if the otherwise solid rock had suddenly become malleable in his grasp, constantly changing and flowing around and beneath him; as if the mound intentionally tried to throw him off when he least expected it. However, the sturdy sergeant held on determinedly as another tremor shook the gigantic defensive construct, and as that had passed, Mikki saw that he was only mere metres away from the ground. He had just been so focused on holding on and making sure not to fall that he had not at all paid attention to how far down he had come. Not wanting to spend any more time on this trembling rock than was absolutely necessary, Shield inwardly made a decision and simply let go of the outcroppings he was holding on to, falling through the air for a couple of seconds and feeling the cold air brush past his face before hitting the ground. However, Mikki was prepared for the collision, and as such he just used the momentum he had been given from the fall to make a rolling manoeuvre as his feet connected with the earth, effectively saving him from having to take the brunt of the fall. Safely back on terra firma, Shield stood up from his roll and eyed the result of his one-man charge – a much weaker looking and demolished mound – with a content and satisfied smile.

"_Yeah, well, those alien builders just don't know how to build their stuff properly. Especially not when the number one demolition-man of the Cornerian Army is paying them a visit!"_ he complimented himself mentally, the smile still clinging to his face, before he resolutely turned around and began sprinting across the battlefield back towards his Landmaster. He found it in no time as its jagged and angular form with the large pulse cannon appeared out of the multicoloured luminescence of the enfilade surrounding him, standing at the front of the Cornerian defensive phalanx, which also gradually appeared through the fog of war. The cockpit of the Landmaster was still open, just as he had left it, as if it were almost bidding him welcome and encouraging him to enter it.

Rushing swiftly to his vehicle, Mikki hurried to the small compartment in the side of it, discarding both of his heavy weapons from his persona and throwing them haphazardly into the compartment, which closed instantaneously. Having done that, the human sergeant expertly leapt into the cockpit in a manner which suggested his extreme proficiency with the Cornerian assault vehicle, the cockpit closing over his head automatically with a hiss of compressed air. Immediately, the sonorous blur of the din of war lessened thanks to the isolating capabilities of the Landmaster, reducing the noise to just a mere rumble in his ears.

As Shield – exhausted as he was – leaned back in his soft pilot's seat and took some long, deep breaths in an attempt to restore the homeostasis of his body, he thought about sending a message to Gaines in the tank next to him to let him know that the generator was down, but the Cornerian artillery sergeant beat him to it. Appearing on Mikki's comlink-screen with an expression which was essentially fright and admiration mingled, the rhinoceros addressed the human sergeant almost incredulously, "Shield, man, we thought you were dead! We saw you heading out into the fray, and then some moments afterwards we saw you battling that huge Sharpclaw, but we hesitated to shoot it because we were afraid of hitting you as well by accident. After you beat it, you disappeared, and we couldn't find you again, no matter how hard we looked. When we finally saw that large blue explosion, we thought we'd lost you! So, what happened?" Gained queried interestedly, wanting to know the results of this daring one-man offensive after feeling the initial relief of having their human ally back with them again.

In return, Mikki merely flashed him a wry grin before replying calmly, "Heck, these aliens don't know how to look after their things, man. Destroying that local generator was no trouble at all… and it was also quite fun to boot!" he beamed, thinking about the admirable kills he had obtained during his scaling of the mound, "Anyway, what happened in a nutshell is that the local shield generator is definitely down, so you can just pound away at the mound now, guys. With any luck, their guns should be demolished in a couple of minutes if we keep this suppressive fire up!" Shield shouted happily, finally letting the excitement of having done something truly daunting – and escaping from it with his life intact, still – fill him up like a comforting wave of warmth.

Gaines answered with an audible cheer and apparently broadcasted a call for the remaining Landmasters to give the mound everything they had, for it was as if the already notable amount of pulse-discharges was tripled into several devastating volleys, so strong was the Cornerians' newly regained morale when they resumed fire. After Mikki had rested his head and limbs a bit, he joined the ravaging assault as well, aiming all of his viridian spheres of pulse energy at the gun-emplacements, which seemingly crumbled to dust beneath the massive energy-bombardment, no longer having their local shield generator to protect them. In a matter of minutes, what had been a truly terrifying alien defensive construct – and the last of them, as well – was reduced to a simple hill with sections of it consisting of merely smoking shambles and debris, the pitiful remains of the once so awe-inducing and imposing alien armaments. Smouldering remains of alien corpses, both of humanoids and Sharpclaw, littered the broken and desolate tiers of the mound, posing no threat whatsoever. With a surge of adrenaline and happiness of his efforts flowing through him, Mikki realized that the battle had been won.

However, fate might not have more in store for his Cornerian friends in the Landmaster-division, but it certainly had more in store for him, for through the mingled cheers and victory-talk of the Cornerians as the heavily armoured Landmasters traversed the scorched earth, propelled by the purple blazes of their G-Diffusers in order to set up a forward command post on the defeated mound – and to send in sweeper teams to make sure everything on the construct had been annihilated – Shield's walkie-talkie began to crackle with static, notifying him of an incoming message. Looking curiously at his bulky communication device of choice, the sergeant loosened it from its strap on his flak vest and pressed the button, which allowed talking with whoever was on the other end, "Yeah, this is Shield. Go ahead," he acknowledged the yet unknown speaker calmly, yet curiously, since he had no idea who would want to contact him in the aftermath of the battle.

To his most profound surprise, the gruff and hoarse voice on the other end was that of a person in the Cornerian Army, whom Mikki felt honour-bound to obey, seeing as this particular soldier had done more for Lylat and Star Fox than could be summarized in words. With what sounded like a note of utter relief in his voice, the caller began to speak, "Shield, am I glad I got to you! This is General Pepper, reporting from Cornerian central command. What's your status?" the canine general asked urgently.

Although he knew that Pepper could not see it through the walkie-talkie, Mikki smiled broadly yet again as he eyed the immensely satisfying result of their mission through his cockpit window, the mound standing broken on the plain in the dark night, "Heh, funny you should ask, sir, for all I can say now is: Mission accomplished! Those aliens and their defences are nothing more than dust now, just like I promised you they'd be when you gave me this position in charge. We've suffered three or four losses, unfortunately, but other than that, there's no sweat. We're all pumped up and ready to celebrate!" he grinned joyfully, but his obvious effervescence dissipated quickly as he heard Pepper heave an audible sigh of sadness on the other end of the line before he spoke up in reply.

"Although I should probably be happy about that piece of news, I'm sorry to say that I can't be. A situation has arisen… an urgent situation, that is… and I desperately need your help with it. It seems the mission isn't completely over for you yet, sergeant. You see, Saber's team of marines has fallen into an ambush in the jungle…" Pepper began, but was cut off by Mikki's incredulous exclamation.

"What?! Are you kidding me, sir? Seriously, it's Saber we're talking about, right? That dude never lets anyone get the drop on him without slicing them to pieces! Hell, I should know; I've seen him in the field. How could this happen?" he asked vehemently and was calmly answered by Pepper, whose voice had begun to take on the slightly sepulchral note of hopelessness.

"I don't know, sergeant. I don't have the slightest clue. However, this is where you come in. I have a mission redirect for you; new objectives, you see. Your new objectives are to rendezvous with Saber in the jungle tomorrow and re-take the enemy HQ in there in order to disrupt their operations permanently. Fortunately, every Cornerian comlink, such as the one Saber's using, has been outfitted with a tracking device, so we can pinpoint his location accurately, so take a satellite uplink with you. I suggest you make your way into the jungle now, but it'd be suicide to try and storm the base now, as tired as you probably are. In order to solve this satisfactorily for all of us, find a safe place within enemy territory and rest there for the night. Whatever you do, don't try and find Saber during the night. I don't want another ambush on my hands. In the morning, make your way to his position, regroup and attack that hostile HQ. I think you'll have much more strength in you if you get a good night's sleep. Understood?" the canine general asked resolutely.

Pepper needed not worry if his orders got through to Shield, for the moment after he was done speaking, the sergeant answered him determinedly, "You got it, sir! Objectives understood. Heh, this sounds like it could be the perfect G-Wing reunion party tomorrow. Too bad I didn't bring any champagne for us to drink when we blow that enemy HQ into pieces!" he grinned joyfully, but amidst his joy, his face was conquered by pondering features as he suddenly began thinking about something, which had puzzled him about the message, "Say, general… Won't Ghost be coming along as well? There's no G-Wing without Ghost."

Mikki did not have to wait long before Pepper answered affirmatively, "I was just getting to that, Shield. I'm going to contact him when I sign off here, for as you say, he's an indispensable part of your team. If you're clear on the objectives, sergeant, then I think there's nothing left for me to say, except for good luck! Report back to me tomorrow when you've regrouped. Pepper out!" the canine general said, ending the transmission abruptly, leaving nothing more than static in Shield's walkie-talkie. However, Mikki was quick to turn off the device and turn on the comlink in his Landmaster, sending a message to Gaines.

The remaining Landmasters stood at the foot of the mound, and behind the towering alien construct, one could see the jungle spreading across the continent like an all-consuming carpet of exceptionally lush and dense foliage. As Shield sent the message, he retrieved a Cornerian satellite uplink from a small compartment in the cockpit of the Landmaster and strapped it to his arm. Basically, it looked like s white digital watch with a drastically enlarged screen, allowing for clear visuals of the Cornerian satellite images, which were transmitted to the device. Already, the signal had been established, and Mikki could see the dense mass of the jungle spreading out across the continent on the screen, disrupted in the middle by a circular red energy signature, which he presumed to be the alien HQ. Apart from that, he noticed a small red energy signature some distance away from the HQ, not moving at all. He correctly assumed this to be John, who had perhaps camped for the night since he was not moving.

As the face of the grey-skinned Cornerian rhinoceros popped up on the comlink-screen in his Landmaster, looking at him expectantly, Shield stated the situation exactly as it was, "Well, Harry, I think I'm leaving you guys now. I've just received a mission redirect from Pepper himself to go into enemy territory and meet up with my team tomorrow. If I do that, I obviously can't be with you guys, but that's the way it must be. After all, you can't argue against an order from the man himself, can you?" he asked jokingly.

Gaines was silent for a moment, stupefied by surprise, before he allowed a warm smile to pass his lips as he answered Mikki calmly, "You know what, Shield… You're absolutely right. You can't argue against a direct order from Pepper, so if your presence is needed somewhere else, I won't hold you back. Hell, take the Landmaster to the edge of the jungle, if that's where you're going, and just leave it there. We'll retrieve it later." Here, Gaines paused in a melancholic fashion before adding with finality, "So, what are you waiting for? Be on your way! Before you go, however, I just want you to know that it was one of the greatest experiences of my life to serve alongside you, Shield. You're more courageous and proficient at combat than anyone I've ever met; that's a given. You humans aren't so bad, after all! See you, and good luck! Go and kick their butts!" he grinned reassuringly to Mikki.

The devoted human sergeant returned the friendly grin, lifted his hand in a salute, and promptly fired up the boosters of his Landmaster, making the armoured assault vehicle blast across the scorched land with unprecedented speed, propelled by an immense purple flame at its rear. Effortlessly, Shield swerved around the side of the mound before heading straight for his new destination and zone of conflict, which loomed threateningly in front of him: The jungle of this unpredictable planet, its trees with their ancient branches almost seeming to reach out for his Landmaster, bidding it welcome and threatening it at the same time.

---

"Oh, dear goodness me! Krys, I truly hate to disturb you in the midst of your perfect flying over there, but now they're doing it again. They just won't cease and desist! Be a dear and get these guys off me, will you?" Jakob asked calmly with his British accent as he yet again threw his Arwing into a frantic barrel-roll, in order to avoid the fierce volley of purple plasma-fire, which was sent his way from the three coppery alien fighters that had suddenly chosen him as their target in the middle of the fierce swarm. Krystal, flying some distance away in her own Arwing, swiftly blasting an entire alien formation into interstellar vapour trails with her viridian lasers by making a swift flyby-attack, noticed her friend's dire peril and immediately engaged her boosters, rushing to his aid courtesy of the large purple flame of ionized exhaust, which shot out from the G-Diffusers at the back of her Arwing.

Initially, as the newly reformed team consisting of Ghost and Krystal had penetrated the main alien attack force from the flank, all was chaos. The coppery alien strike fighters were milling about aimlessly, not caring about anything other than presenting a large enough mass to hopefully keep the Cornerians at bay. However, with the arrival of the young human and Cerinian at their left flank, they were now under pressure from two sides, as they were also being hammered from the front by an incessant laser bombardment of every hue in the spectrum, originating from the multitude of Arwings surrounding The Valaria and The Monolith, the two sleek and white Cornerian cruisers, which were lying staunchly side by side with blazing laser turrets in an admirable effort to keep the alien attackers at bay. This new pressure had forced the main alien force to start thinking in formations and strategy in order to prevail, and as they were slowly decimated by laser fire from two sides, the fighters began to split up into small, controlled groups consisting of three or four craft, flying densely in close formations to keep each other safe.

It was one of these newly formed formations, which had started following Ghost a moment ago, resulting in his call to Krystal. As they had entered the swarm and demolished the fighters at the outer edge or perimeter, however, some nearby alien squadrons had also estimated the human as the greatest nuisance, this unfortunate affinity resulting in a massive rain of purple plasma-fire upon his craft more than one time. This time, help was thankfully on its way.

As he deftly made his Arwing bank sharply to the left, flitting quickly through a narrow opening in a blockade made by a couple of fighters in front of him, Jakob anxiously waited for Krystal to arrive. He could feel the relentless plasma-fire hammering away at his shields, sending his ship rocking back and forth with violent tremors as each beam hit. Luckily, thanks to his initial suggestions of recalculating the specifications of the shields when G-Wing arrived at the start of this conflict, they were sturdier than the ones normally found on an Arwing. Still, they were gradually depleting, and no matter how many fancy evasive manoeuvres he tried, the alien fighters kept up their tenacious pursuit. In order for him to reorient himself, Ghost took his eyes away from the swirling coppery maelstrom of alien fighters in front of him and spared a glance over his shoulder. The three fighters were still there, and situated against the backdrop of the luminescent, red-glowing Solar, their hulls took on a most frightening appearance, the coppery metal sparkling and glimmering with hues of devastating fire, as if the ships themselves were demonic entities comprised of incinerating flame, heading straight for the Arwing and its unfortunate pilot to vanquish him from the face of the universe.

However, the next thing that Jakob saw made his heart skip a beat because of the sheer beauty of it. As he kept his stare fixated on his unrelenting pursuers and the roiling mass of fighters behind them as well, he saw yet another form emerging from the blazing depths of Solar's bright and all-consuming cinnabar luminescence. The angular, slender figure of an attack ship slowly began to materialize itself, racing towards his Arwing with the fastest speed possible. As the ship got closer, its long and broad white wings along with its sparkling white hull and slender, graceful appearance made the philosophical commander think of an angel of the future, composed entirely of metal, and with giant laser cannons mounted on it to exact its celestial vengeance. In truth, it was only Krystal's Arwing heading his way, which he knew right away as he glimpsed her equally angelic face in the cockpit, illuminated as it was by the almost divine luminescence of the glowing celestial body of Solar, making her features appear even more beautiful than they already were. Her cerulean fur seemed to radiate a previously unseen lustre, and her emerald eyes seemed to hold an inexplicable divine brilliance as well, as she plotted a direct course for Ghost's ship. When she was close enough, the young and seemingly divinely infused Cerinian did not think twice about firing her lasers in a rapid flurry, the lances of green force effectively demolishing Jakob's alien pursuers.

The previous associations to the divine proved to be the basis of Ghost's next compliment to his Cerinian friend for her brave interception and elimination of his pursuers. As she glided past him in her Arwing, still maintaining that almost preternatural beauty gained from the light of Solar, Jakob raised a hand in a friendly wave, addressing her cheerfully over the comlink, "Ah, what do you know? My faithful guardian angel, showing up at just the right time. I truly don't know what I'd do without you, Krystal!" he grinned, receiving a just as cheerful reply from her over the comlink.

"It's nothing, my friend, really! I'm just glad that we get to hone our skills of cooperation again… and it seems like you can put yours to the test now!" she suddenly said, abruptly ending her transmission as no less than four enemy ships closed in on her from behind, forcing her to disrupt the connection and take evasive actions, starting with a classic barrel-roll to hopefully evade the first flurry of incoming purple plasma-bolts.

As she had completed that manoeuvre, Krystal veered off sharply to the right in the hope of throwing the enemy off course. However, the alien fighters proved to be just as skilful as her and predicted the manoeuvre, following her ruthlessly. Upon seeing this dramatic chase and possible danger to Krystal's life, Ghost abruptly diverted from his chosen course and gave chase, intent on saving his friend once again, and well aware that Krystal's current heading would take them straight through the right flank of the main alien attack force, which understandably seemed to thin out with every passing moment, as more and more fighters were shot to pieces around him in an inferno of wild plasma-explosions, screams and debris. As Jakob finally laid himself behind the ship of the young cerulean vixen, having a clear line of sight to her alien pursuers, they broke through the right flank.

Dodging the last couple of formations made of coppery strike fighters, Krystal, Ghost and the four aliens broke out of the swarm and into the pitch-black void glimmering with white, luminous stars, luckily on the side with the planet. This side of the battlefield in space was namely dominated by Arwings and the Star Fox Team in particular. Now suddenly in free space and able to perform every manoeuvre imaginable, Jakob's perspicacious mind quickly formulated a plan, which would ensure the destruction of the alien ships, utilizing the uncanny skills of teamwork, which he and Krystal possessed.

Eyeing her adversaries carefully, waiting for them to definitely lock on to the young Cerinian in the ship in front of them, Ghost waited until they began flying steadily, which meant that they definitely had a lock. Just as this particular moment arose, he shouted abruptly over the comlink, "Krys, drop!" Krystal fully understood the command, suddenly throwing her Arwing into a fast whirling downwards spin, leaving only a vague trail of ionized G-Diffuser exhaust. The four aliens immediately stopped their ships, completely stunned and dumbfounded as to where their chosen prey had gone. However, this initial hesitation was everything that Jakob needed to finish them off, opening up with his own laser cannons and unleashing a hail of obliteration on the hostile ships in the form of a flurry of viridian laser beams, making them explode violently as their engine compartments were severely damaged, igniting the volatile plasma which caused their ship to be devoured by orbs of ravenous flame.

"Well, it seems you've still got it, Ghost. The avenging spirit strikes again!" Krystal grinned jokingly to him as she boosted back up towards his location, swiftly aligning her ship with his on his left side. During a brief moment of quietude, free of any impending laser bolts or alien strike fighters, Jakob and Krystal shared a look through the cockpit windows, each with a broad smile directed at the other. Over the course of the last few minutes, they had found their old sense of cooperation and teamwork, as it was evidenced by their professional rescues of one another just before. In their minds, they knew that this transition had been made; they just needed to verbally confirm it to each other.

From his ship, Ghost gave Krystal an appreciative smile, nodding his head in approval of the previous compliment, "Yes, I am the avenging spirit. At least in those extreme cases where malicious people try to harm you in order to fulfil whatever sadistic needs that drive them. After six months of cooperation, you should know that by now, Krystal. There's no length I won't go to in order to ensure your safety. Hell, I know you so well that you're almost like family to me, like a relative of some sort!" he insisted strongly, and he knew that this affirmation of his dedication to his friend was fully understood when the cerulean vixen returned his smile, speaking soothingly to him.

"Of course I know that, Jakob, and I want you to know that the feeling is mutual. I'll always be vigilant and look out for you, just as I was originally assigned to do. Furthermore, you're a great friend to have whenever a problem arises that I can't explain myself. Your personality as a whole is unique, my friend, and if that kindness isn't worth protecting, I don't know what is!" the young Cerinian replied warmly, eyeing her friend insistently.

"Well, for starters, you could begin with protecting that guy over there, since he's essentially your future life!" Ghost said calmly with a wry smile, pointing to his left. Krystal followed his finger, intent on seeing who it was that he pointed out, even though she had a feeling who it might be. As she saw the anxious pilot in the Arwing heading for them, the cerulean vixen suppressed an immense shout of joy, and what luck that she did, for in the next moment, a characteristic voice rang out from the comlink; a voice she would never get tired of hearing until the day she died. A voice, which granted her an absolute and complete feeling of safety: Fox's voice.

"Krys!" he screamed joyfully as he saw his beloved vixen alive and unharmed, "What the hell happened back there? I could see your ship on my radar, and it looked like you were being attacked by one of ours, until someone else stopped it. What happened?" he queried worriedly, but then shifted his attention to Jakob, who merely smiled and nodded politely at the golden-furred vulpine mercenary, "Er… Ghost? What are you doing here?" Fox asked, his confusion now complete.

Before Jakob could answer, Krystal swiftly interjected, leading the formation consisting of the three of them away from the immediate danger of the maelstrom of fighters, "He saved my life, Fox; that's what he did. I was attacked by a guy who posed as one of ours, just as you saw on the radar. Somehow, we've been infiltrated by someone with ties to the aliens on this planet, for I clearly remember him saying that the fighters were loyal to him if I tried to do anything. Luckily, Ghost showed up just in time to prevent him from disabling my engines and dragging me down to the planet for some reason. I truly don't know what they'd want with me, and I don't want to think about it!" Krystal emphasized, shuddering at the sheer thought of the possible atrocities, which the aliens could have committed if they had her in captivity.

During this explanation of events, Fox just looked at Krystal, mouth agape and completely dumbstruck. He was just about to say something to his loved one when Ghost interjected, his characteristic British accent showing audibly in his speech, "Indeed; what Krystal says holds an undeniable veracity, for that's truly what transpired. Also, a thing she mentioned was the reason for me being in the fray after all, when I should originally be aboard The Valaria. Well, as I noticed her dire peril, I decided to help her out of that risky situation, and it seems that my endeavour was successful, for as you can see, Fox, she has suffered no harm whatsoever. However, this unplanned interference by me has lead to a most fortuitous happenstance in the field: We decided to reform our old team. You know, the original cooperation that I cancelled a month ago for her safety." Here, the eloquent commander paused and cast a glance over his shoulder, back at the main force of the aliens, before he chuckled a bit in amusement, "Speaking of that, I must say that this serendipitous remaking of our team has certainly had an impact on the force we just ploughed our way through!" he added cheerfully, making Fox and Krystal divert their loving gazes from one another and look his way.

Just as the vulpine couple looked at the place where the substantial alien force had been some mere moments ago, they saw the three last formations frantically trying to escape from the maze of twisted coppery debris, in which they were boxed in. However, their panicked escaping manoeuvres were easily predicted by the crew manning the guns on the cruisers and in the Arwings surrounding them, for in one shocking wave of incandescent laser fire, the remaining aliens experienced swift and merciless death at the hands of the Cornerians. Upon the accomplishment of that task, the comlink long-range channel was instantly flooded with the cheers and jubilations of the Cornerian pilots and crew-members, a garbled mass of happy shouts and songs, which Fox, Krystal and Jakob could not help partaking in, smiling widely as they did so. They now had nothing to fear; there were no alien strike fighters left, and the last coppery cruiser was swiftly dealt with as it tried to escape. It faced its violent and fiery demise in the shape of torpedoes fired from the Cornerian capital ships that slammed into its hull forcefully like attacking predators lunging at their prey, creating multiple violent explosions on the coppery fuselage of the ship, which quickly spread to the entire construct, devouring the otherwise so imposing cruiser in a matter of moments. It seemed that Ghost and Krystal's swift strike into the flank of the alien force had caused even more commotion in their ranks than the two-man team had dared hope for, resulting in the instantaneous dissolution of the alien attack force.

When the immediate effervescence induced by victory had settled, Ghost noticed two more Arwings coming to join their little three-man group, their G-Diffusers blazing with activity. As they got closer, he was able to make out the pilots: Falco was flying one of the shiips, and Slippy piloted the other one. Jakob's vision intensifier picked up the crimson Star Fox-insignias on the sides just as Falco called over the comlink, "Yo, Ghost! Nice to see you back in the field, man! Say, where's Saber? I need to punch him in the face for beating my kill score last time, and I also need to brag about my guaranteed victory here today!" the iridescently feathered avian smirked, eliciting a wry grin from Jakob before the commander answered him.

"Actually, Falco, I don't know his exact position. All I know is that he's somewhere on that planet along with a squad of marines, and that they're trying to infiltrate the alleged alien HQ covertly, but other than that, I don't know a thing. Funny you should mention that, though. I was just wondering myself how he's doing on such a risky mission as this one," he mused, narrowing his eyes in thought, just as his comlink began to crackle with static and an incoming transmission. With a quick "excuse me", Jakob terminated the common comlink frequency – meaning that the other Star Fox-guys could not listen in on his transmission – held a finger at his comlink, the loudspeaker in his ear, while talking in the microphone hanging along his cheek, "This is Ghost. Please identify yourself," he said formally, wanting to make sure that it was an authentic call, just as he did every time.

On the other end of the line, general Pepper's gruff voice echoed in his ear as the canine general swiftly went over the initial procedures, "This is general Pepper from Cornerian central command. Ghost, you're the last one I need to reach, and I'd just like to know what your status is," Pepper said enquiringly.

"We're doing great out here, sir," Jakob answered affirmatively, "The last threat has just been dealt with, and their entire space force has been reduced to nothing more than scorched debris, mainly thanks to the amazingly enduring men and women of the Cornerian fleet. They all did some phenomenal work today, and they're to be commended if I had my way. However, we haven't exited this dire situation without casualties, and we've lost a small amount of our pilots to the enemy. Still, their efforts in this battle were unlike any other I've seen demonstrated by the Army, so if I may, I recommend that once identification has been completed, Cornerian high command should posthumously award them with a medal of valour or something equally fitting." the decisive commander suggested, wanting to make his view of the situation clear to Pepper.

For the first time in a while, Pepper chuckled – albeit vaguely – to himself as he heard Ghost's version of the battle, but then his tone returned to its usual sincere note, especially considering the horrifying piece of news he was about to relay to Jakob, "Well, commander, it's good to hear that you haven't lost your optimism yet, but perhaps you might once I tell you this. A situation has occurred on the surface, which is most unfortunate, and which requires the involvement of the entire Team G-Wing. This is what happened: The marines Saber was following have fallen into a trap set by the aliens, and have been killed as a result thereof. I've ordered Saber to find a place to hide within enemy territory until tomorrow. It's my plan that he should hook up with Shield and yourself in order for your team to storm and conquer the alien HQ in the jungle, so we can disrupt their operations permanently. If they can see our troops coming and ambush them effortlessly, then they're even more dangerous than I'd originally imagined, and I wouldn't want Lylat to suffer in the future because of me underestimating my enemy. I believe you see now why it has suddenly become immensely important to neutralize them, since they could easily bring devastation to the entire Lylat System if their operations were allowed to continue. So, Ghost, I have a mission redirect for you. Your new orders are to get down onto the planet, find a suitable place to camp and sleep for the night. When morning comes, rendezvous with Shield and Saber and retake that HQ! Is that clear, commander?" Pepper asked him gruffly.

Jakob did not think twice before answering Pepper's question, his otherwise steady voice not betraying his horror at the situation, "Certainly, sir, it's clear. Objectives received and understood. That's a deplorable situation, indeed, and if it can be remedied in any way, even through a military offensive, then so be it. I understand the reason for sending a Special Forces-team, since they'd apparently see ordinary army troops coming from a mile away. I fully understand, but…" He mulled the next question about in his head for a bit, thinking about how to phrase it, before he asked Pepper, "… would you mind if I included Krystal on this mission? We've reformed our cooperation, you see, so now it's almost essential for me that she comes along with me. How it happened is a long story, which I'll gladly tell you afterwards, but right now, I just need to know whether or not you approve of it, sir," he ended his request respectfully.

When the canine general replied a moment afterwards, Ghost could tell from his tone of voice that he was smiling, "Of course, Ghost. If that's what'll help you in the field, then that's what you should do. You have my permission to do anything you see fit. Report back to me tomorrow when your team has regrouped and you're ready to move out. I'm counting on you guys, so don't let me down. Pepper out!" the general stated before terminating the connection.

Slowly, stupefied by the horror of what he had just heard, almost as if he were in an unreal dream – or perhaps more appropriately a nightmare – the human commander fixed his gaze on the members of the Star Fox-team, who hovered expectantly beside him in their Arwings. With a sepulchral voice bereft of any optimism whatsoever, he addressed the expectant Lylatians, "Guys, I've just been informed from Pepper that something terrible has recently happened on the planet during this offensive. Saber's marine-contingent has been eliminated, as a result of them walking into a trap laid by the aliens. Pepper has requested that Team G-Wing regroup on the planet in order to take the alien HQ by force and disrupt their operations, but not until tomorrow. For now, my presence is required down there; not on the front, but on a suitable camping position, where I'll wait until tomorrow before locating Shield and Saber. I know, it's horrible", he emphasized as he saw Slippy's lower lip begin to quaver with sadness, "but that just gives me all the more reason to fry the brain of every single alien down there!" Jakob added vehemently, before turning his attention to the golden-furred vulpine mercenary in the ship next to him.

"Fox, I require a permission from you in order to proceed. Although Pepper has given me free hands to do what I must in this matter, I'd think it quite impolite of me if I didn't ask you first, seeing as you'll eventually be an essential component of her future life. Since Krystal and I have reformed our cooperation, would it then be most abhorred by you if I took her with me for the duration of this mission to aid me in my progress in the field? I only ask you because I know what an immense emotional significance her love and existence has to you, and you have my word that she'll suffer no harm. If she does, I'll be the first one to die in an act of vengeance in order for that injustice to be remedied. I really want you two to build a future together; it's destined to be so, I can feel it. Do you understand me?" he humbly asked Fox, who looked at him through the tinted cockpit windows of his Arwing with a scrutinizing look, before smiling a warm smile.

"Hey, Ghost… You won't be restrained by me at all. I know how well you've looked after her in the six months you've worked together, and actually, your going with her in the field reassured me more than anything, because I knew she'd come back alive when you were with her. Yeah, I want us to build a future together as well", he said, blushing slightly, "and I know that if you're taking her with you in the field, she'll come back so that it can happen, while she's guarding you at the same time. After all, with that eyesight of yours, you do need some extra protection, and since you work so well with Krys, I can't see any reason for not letting you take her with you! You're free to go!" Fox said enthusiastically, before eyeing Krystal intently, "Be careful down there, okay Krystal?" he asked tenderly, concern showing visibly in his eyes, softening the otherwise hard irises.

In return, Krystal fixed her beautiful emerald eyes upon him and answered him softly, yet with audible determination, "Of course I will, my love. You can count on it!" After blowing Fox a loving kiss through the cockpit window, she turned her attention to her human friend, "Well, Ghost... shall we?" she asked enthusiastically, nodding her head at the lush but desolate planet in an indicating manner. The slightly luminous, green and grey celestial body rotated slowly in front of them, trapped as it was in its gravitational anomaly, almost as if it were a creature anticipating their arrival.

"We most definitely shall, Krystal," Jakob grinned back, fiddling with the instruments in his Arwing, "I'm just trying to figure out how to link this radar to the Cornerian satellite uplink systems… Ah, there it is!" he exclaimed with satisfaction, pressing some more buttons. Shortly afterwards, a segment of Krystal's radar showing the dense jungle was lighted up in red. While Ghost spoke to her, the young Cerinian noticed that the selected area was adjacent to one of the red lines cutting through the planet's terrain like a constantly bleeding scar on the face of the misshapen world.

"The area I've selected is a suitable distance from the alien HQ. I don't think we'll be discovered if we sleep there. Also, I've transferred a map with Saber and Shield's positions to my transportable satellite uplink, so we can find them tomorrow. Everything's set now, so if you're ready, we can move out!" he said energetically.

Krystal was definitely ready, for in the process of a single heartbeat, the two Arwings had begun their rapidly spiralling descent into the planet's atmosphere, soon aglow with the fires of friction.

---

He had walked through the seemingly endless jungle for a long time, seeing nothing other than new ancient trees stretching their leafy tops almost longingly into the jet-black night-sky sparkling faintly with stars, but finally, John reached the position he had seen on his satellite uplink.

Before him, a group of large and tall tress stood in a curiously formed structure, almost resembling a natural circular bulwark around something valuable. Saber knew better, however. From looking at the satellite images on his uplink, the trees only surrounded a small clearing, most suitable for sleeping in and not being found by the enemy.

With a broad smile lining his lips in joy of finding such an eminent hiding place, John squeezed himself through a narrow gap between two mighty trunks overgrown with vines worming their way around the resilient structures of nature. Now inside of the protecting barrier of the trees, Saber noticed that the clearing was small and entirely circular, with only one hole of starry night-sky visible through the tops of the trees high up. To his undeniable joy, John found the ground in the clearing to be overgrown with an extremely lush and green type of extraordinarily soft moss, ideal for sleeping on, and since he had just made this discovery, he intended to use it as quickly as possible.

As he laid down on the comfortable and malleable earth, Saber yawned widely, feeling the tiredness of an exhausting day overcome him at long last, now that his adrenaline stopped flowing because of his knowledge that he was safe in this clearing, at least until morning came. Before tiredness took him completely, relaxing his limbs and beguiling him into the blissful world of sleep, John managed to slide Ragetooth off his back and put it down beside him. As he was finally taken by the mild darkness of sleep, the human lieutenant slumbered deeply with one hand instinctively on the hilt of his blade, lest a dangerous situation occur.

---

Having left the safe confines of his Landmaster behind at the edge of the jungle, Mikki trudged through the world of lush vegetation, hacking and slashing away at the vines with his now only partially blood-stained combat-knife. The obstructions of nature succumbed easily, cut down effortlessly by his sharpened blade as the human sergeant looked for an acceptable camping spot in the immediate vicinity of the position, which he had seen on his satellite uplink. From time to time, he even checked the small device at his wrist, wanting to make sure he did not go the wrong way. As Shield traversed the lush terrain, his large weapons were more than once filtered in ensnaring vines, much to his consternation as he then had to cut the irritating things away from his weapons, which he had taken with him from the Landmaster.

Suddenly, after having slashed his way through a particularly resilient net of vines spanning the gap between two broad trees, Mikki emerged into a relatively clear part of the jungle. It was a large grassy clearing, surrounded by sporadic groups of trees on all sides, but what really caught his eye was the large, almost bulwark-like grouping of rocks, which stood at the far end of the clearing, where the intensity of the trees started growing again.

Realizing the optimal potential that this place had as a defensive position – at least for someone equipped with the same type of armaments as himself – Shield heaved a deep sigh of relief as he checked with his satellite uplink, seeing that this position was not at all so far way from the alien HQ, nor was it far away from John's current position. As he hurried to the grouping of rocks and climbed over them to get behind them, Mikki praised himself lucky for having a satellite uplink with him. He did not dare to think about what a confusing maze this jungle would be without an uplink-device.

Taking his crimson rocket launcher from his back and setting it so that it rested against the rocks, the sergeant slumped down onto the ground as well, leaning himself against the quite comfortable rocks, holding his Gatling-gun firmly in his hands. Before he even knew it himself, Shield was asleep behind the bulwark of nature, fully armed and ready to do his part in the morning when he had regained his strength through a good night's sleep.

---

"I think this place will do nicely," Jakob said approvingly as he and Krystal stepped out from amongst the trees on one side of the clearing that they were entering just now. Behind these dense trees, they had hidden their Arwings and covered them meticulously with fallen leaves and branches, in order to not immediately compromise their position. Apart from their normal weapons, which consisted of Jakob's blasters and SMGs, and - for Krystal's part - the staff that she carried in her belt, the cerulean vixen had also elected to bring a long, sleek camouflage-coloured Cornerian sniper rifle with her from her Arwing. She carried this excellently crafted weapon across her back, the long energy cell-magazine protruding visibly from it.

The clearing they had just stepped into was in reality a slightly sloping field of soft grass, surrounded by trees on all sides. However, what proved to be the most interesting thing about this clearing was the river that flowed through it, originating at some point in the trees on one side of the clearing and continuing in between the trees on the other. It was not an ordinary river of water, but – judging from the fiery light it emitted along with a most stifling heat – rather a stream of lava. The duo confirmed this initial suspicion as they slowly and cautiously walked to the edge of the stream and saw the bright, fiery and golden mass of magma slowly flowing through the crack in the earth.

"Hmm… Strange. I haven't seen anything on the scans of this planet that indicated volcanic activity, so why are we suddenly faced with a stream of lava? Perhaps this is one of the long red lines that are visible even from space?" Ghost mused, his eyes narrowed intently at the phenomenon.

"I don't know, and I don't care, Ghost. At least not right now," Krystal said tiredly before removing her rifle from her back, putting it on the ground and throwing herself down on the soft grass with an audible sigh of relief, her retracted golden Cerinian staff glimmering in her belt as she did so, "We can try and find the answers tomorrow, and we probably will. I have a feeling that this planet holds more than meets the eye, but for now, I just want to sleep. It's been a long day full of war and shocking revelations, so I just want to recuperate from that if you don't mind," she said, laying down on the soft earth and closing her eyes in preparation for sleep, but still, she could not help shivering because of the notable chill of the night, which was present even though they were resting next to the stream of lava.

Jakob looked down at his Cerinian friend and smiled a warm smile, sympathizing easily with her for what she had faced during the chaotic hours of this day, "Of course I don't mind, Krys. It's only understandable. Don't you worry; I'll take the first watch, and I'll wake you up when approximately five hours have passed, in order for you to relieve me. I think you're the one of us, who needs sleep the most, and it's not a problem at all. Oh, and it certainly is cold tonight!" he concurred, noticing her shivering and the fact that she was only clad in her aquamarine Team Star Fox-uniform, "That's why you'll probably need this more than me."

With that, the human commander resolutely slid his long black leather trenchcoat off his shoulders, shook it a couple of times to make it straight and gently put the garment around Krystal like a carpet. Luckily, it was long enough to cover most of the young Cerinian's slender frame, and as she felt the added isolation from the cold outside in the form of Ghost's trenchcoat, the cerulean vixen sleepily whispered some words of appreciation, "Thanks, Jakob. Goodnight!" before visibly relaxing, slowing her breathing and gradually falling asleep.

Jakob, now clad in his dark-grey battledress, black leathet gloves and boots with his weapons showing much more visibly in their holsters, their chrome glowing faintly with the fiery luminescence of the lava stream, sat down next to the sleeping Krystal and eyed her for some time, gingerly brushing away some of her long hair, which had fallen across her eyes, so it would not irritate her in her sleep. As he did, he could not help softly saying a phrase in Latin, "_Requies eterna_, Krys. Eternal rest… well, until tomorrow, that is! Sleep tight,"

However, he soon found that the young vixen beside him had not drifted off into the hazy realm of sleep just yet, since she was audibly and restlessly rustling about beneath his night-black leathery garment; her blanket for the night. Judging by her restless demeanour, something had to be plaguing her mind, preventing her from sleeping fully. Ghost soon found himself to be right in his assumptions when Krystal lifted her head a bit, squinted her eyes so that they almost resembled two crescent emerald moons in a cerulean sky, and reached out her hand in a searching manner.

"Ghost? Are you there?" she mumbled hazily and drowsily, sweeping her hand lightly in front of her, undoubtedly trying to locate him amidst the inky blackness of the veil of night. Resolutely, he stuck out his left arm to let Krystal know that he sat there, resulting in her hand clasping itself tightly around his wrist.

Grinning slightly with glee because of his now affirmed prediction of the suspicion that something was indeed bothering the cerulean vixen, Jakob raised his voice to a soft and compassionate tone as not to involuntarily scare the young Cerinian, "Yes, Krystal. I'm here, and I always will be. I'm only happy to help you if something's bothering you, my friend. So, what's causing you such restlessness? What ails you?" he asked sympathetically. In reply to this, Krystal heaved a truly heart-rending sigh before she started to bare her soul to him

"I'm so sorry that I always have to burden you with my worries at the most strange of times, but… Oh, my poor Fox!" she suddenly and abruptly lamented, not denying the hail of shimmering tears that started to flow from her eyes, aglow with the fiery luminescence of the lava stream, so that they almost resembled crystalline orbs of frozen fire, which rolled inexorably down her furred cheeks as she began to cry inconsolably. She remembered in painstaking detail the conversation she had had with Fox during the start of the space battle, about her nagging feelings of suspicion and him just dismissing it with his "live your life to the fullest"-remark, which made no sense to her at the given moment and made her depressed because of this very absence of reason. If it were an indication that Fox might perhaps use that phrase just to bring her comfort while he was simultaneously bothered with problems, which he would not reveal to her, the cerulean vixen would like to have it resolved once and for all so she could do something about it, and if there was one person in her vicinity who could do just that when her otherwise clear judgement failed her, it was Ghost.

When she had hastily wiped her tears away, Krystal could not help but notice the outline of the quizzical and attentive expression, which had conquered Jakob's face upon seeing this sudden outburst of sorrow. Having trouble proceeding because of the reverberating note of sadness, which caused her otherwise so melodious voice to quaver, the cerulean vixen continued.

"You know, I… can never in my life understand… how you can find the equanimity to endure my sorrow and worry, Jakob, but yet you do, despite impending enemy opposition and being in the middle of enemy territory. You're a truly remarkable friend to have, and I can't tell you how glad I am that we've gotten to know each other so well. However…even in spite of all this, I don't think you'll be able to help me this time. For you see, my worry isn't about myself now. It's about Fox," she concluded, once again enduring a new waterfall of tears from her eyes as she thought about the love of her life.

As Krystal had indeed expected, Ghost was a bit bemused about what she was saying, as it was evidenced by the slight cocking of his head. Quite contrary, however, to what she had expected, his reply was not that of hopelessness, but merely that of slight wonderment.

"Is it, now? And because of this, you don't expect my celerity of mind to be profound enough to sort out this problem, just because I don't know the nature of his mind as well as yours? Well, in this case I'm happy to prove you wrong, Krystal, for I will always give it a shot. That's the least I can do for you, after all, considering all that you've done for me now and in the past, and also when you're going through this rather extreme self-induced sorrow. Now, tell me Krys, what seems to be the problem with dear old Fox, eh?" Jakob asked her compassionately with his distinctive British accent, an expectant grin playing across his slightly aquiline visage as it was illuminated by the stream of lava, causing the young Cerinian to prop her delicate head up on her other hand – the one that did not clasp itself around his wrist for comfort – which she held in the air with the elbow pointed firmly into the ground to support it.

"Well, it's just that… I'm worried about his condition. In all the time I've known him, ever since he rescued me on Sauria, he has kept telling me to enjoy my life to its fullest. Even when I sometimes felt down and depressed, as I had my first encounters with the brutalities of mercenary work, he would always just tell me to live my life. But I fear that he's denying some pain of his own in order for him to say that to me. I've tried to probe his mind, and even confronted him directly about it, but I haven't been able to get a response that confirms my suspicion. And now I fear that it's only something he says to keep my spirits up, while he himself is rent from within by excruciating emotional pain. I wouldn't be able to bear it if he suddenly can't cope with the brutal demands of this job, breaks down and does something drastic to himself. And if he does, and I haven't been able to hinder him from doing that, my misery would be complete, since I'm then completely incapable of doing anything right, when I can't even rescue my love from the malice of his own mind. Oh Ghost, I don't want to lose him! He's the first one I've ever loved with all my heart, and I don't want that love to fade!"

As she uttered those final words, Krystal burst into a renewed fit of tears, lowering her head slightly in shame. Jakob eyed her carefully for some time, thinking about the best words to say to her in this sad situation. As he did, he suddenly remembered the overwhelming sense of protection, not to mention the unsurpassed love and affection, which Fox had shown towards Krystal on several occasions, be it in the field or back home on the Great Fox during G-Wing's first stay. Over the course of their month away from Lylat, Ghost could only assume that this love had grown noticeably, and as such, the commander saw no reason to doubt Fox's sincerity in this matter concerning his Cerinian loved one.

Slowly, Jakob levelled his gaze at the sobbing vixen before him as he reached out with his right gloved hand and placed it gently on her shoulder, which caused her to slowly raise her head up in order for her gaze to meet his own. Krystal's emerald eyes were glistening with tears as she desperately stared back at him for an explanation, which she got as he began to speak soothingly, allowing Krystal to rest her head on his shoulder since it obviously made her feel more comfortable.

"You needn't weep, Krystal, and you need not despair. There's no reason why you should even think about the grievous possibility of your love fading, Krys, let alone consider it a valid fact. From what I've noticed, Fox is so fanatically devoted to you behind that gruff mercenary exterior that he wouldn't hesitate in the least to indulge you in his worries, if something was indeed bothering him. He loves you too much to cause you pain by letting you linger on in uncertainty and doubt about his well-being; I'm quite sure of that. Hence, I think it would be quite reasonable to deduce from this that nothing's wrong with him, since his all-consuming love for you would've caused him to tell you otherwise. Actually, Nietzsche, whom I've already told you about, has said something about this, also. He's quite a clever fellow, really. He states that the perfect _remedium amoris_, the cure of love in Latin, "is still, in most cases, that ancient radical medicine: Love in return". That's a beautiful saying, isn't it? In any case, I understand your pain and the concern for your loved one, Krystal. The one who doesn't must be a complete and utter fool."

At this point of his soothing speech to Krystal, her sobs had gradually become more controlled and steady. As the young Cerinian heaved a deep sigh of comfort and whispered a heartfelt "Thank you, Jakob!" into his ear before letting go of him and creeping back down under his trenchcoat, he started to reconstruct the flux of information, which she had just given him, using his undeniable perspicacity.

"Now, in order for me to set this straight, let me see if I understand it correctly: You're afraid that you might lose Fox, because you get the impression that he's hiding some emotional pain or nagging worries of his own from you, just maintaining a fake front in order to make you feel better. Thus, you don't see him as his normal, charming persona, but merely as a simulacrum of himself, you might say. You get this impression simply because he has told you to "live your life to its fullest" no matter what has seemed to be the problem when you asked him about it. And this behaviour and consequent answer is so unlike him that you can't help but think he's hiding something. Right?" he asked her softly.

The sobbing had long since subsided and Krystal had crept back under the trenchcoat, but even from underneath the commander's blanket-like garment, she managed to nod in affirmation. That gesture was apparently everything that Ghost needed to get confirmation in his newly minted theory about the cause for Krystal's emotional discomfort, for he gave a wide grin as he saw it and started to briskly reel off what he had been thinking, clearly letting Krystal understand that she could dismiss all those nagging thoughts of anxiety from her mind, since this was an area which his experience allowed him to help her with.

"Ah! The perpetually elusive nature of the eternal verities of life. No wonder you're perplexed, Krys, since this has proved time and time again to be a most vexatious matter, which is hard to give any credence without dismissing the friendly advice, which is given to you by your dearest, as a seemingly hollow dictum of exiguous comfort. However, I do think that I can help you with this. Fox is indeed speaking the truth when he urges you to live your life. Don't worry; I have a reason for saying so, and luckily, since you're tired and worn out after a truly exhausting day, my further elucidation isn't highly advanced. Beyond peradventure, it'll in fact be quite simple."

The characteristically eloquent human waited a beat to make room for his further explanation, which he knew the Cerinian beside him was anxiously waiting for, before saying loudly and clearly, "Look to the moon, Krystal! That's my explanation of your worries."

Looking up into the darkened sky, Jakob and Krystal each followed the milky-white celestial orb on its way across the sky. Because of the intense gravitational anomaly of the planet, it was actually possible to see the trajectory of this celestial body, as it made a complete arc on the sky and then slowly began to descend towards the horizon. Before it came that far, however, Ghost had raised his gloved hand and outlined the arc of the moon to Krystal with his finger, stopping his movement exactly as it reached the highest point on the sky; its zenith.

"There!" he suddenly whispered anxiously, indicating the moon as it began its clear descent, "It has just passed its zenith, the inevitable peak of its trajectory. Now that it's descending, it can't remake its previous trajectory, even if we go as far as to assume that it wanted to. This is actually my morale with all this, Krys," he said pensively, looking the cerulean vixen in the eye, "You see, Fox just tells you to live your life because he's afraid that if you don't, you'll someday find yourself wanting to remake your life when you've passed the peak of it... but you can't; just like the moon can't remake its trajectory after it has passed its zenith. It's exactly the same with you, and I must say that I applaud Fox's advice to you. Live your life, Krystal; live it to its fullest when you can! Because if you don't, you'll one day find yourself passing your zenith, and then it'll be too late to do anything about it at all," he said fervently, looking intently at Krystal as he tried to make out whether she had understood him or not.

However, after some time during which the young Cerinian thought about his words, it seemed that she understood him perfectly, for she returned his look determinedly, the light of resolve sparkling weakly in her eyes, "Yes, I see what you mean, Ghost. It's quite logical, really. I don't know how I could doubt Fox's intentions that way, but you've definitely made sure that it won't happen again. Thank you so much, my friend, and goodnight again!" Krystal said, smiling appreciatively as she lay down on the ground again, now sleeping fully since no emotional phantasm nagged her.

Ghost only looked at her sleeping persona sympathetically before he turned his gaze to the darkened jungle, mumbling as he did so, "No problem at all, Krys. That's what I'm here for." Swiftly, he fiddled with some small buttons on the vision intensifier covering his left eye, switching it to night vision, which resulted in the surroundings appearing much more clearly to his eyes, bathed as they were in a green translucent haze as he sat tensely next to his sleeping friend, staring vigilantly into the night.

However, what he completely failed to notice – since the interloper was behind him – was the two golden eyes belonging to a lupine figure, who watched the two anxiously. Using some trees behind the group for cover, watching Jakob's back and Krystal's sleeping form, the wretched figure of Cain Tyler let a malevolent smirk flash across his lips. He had just affirmed that the severe losses, which the aliens had suffered in the recently ended offensive, had not been in vain. Somehow, for some reason, the very object of his masters' interest, the cerulean vixen known as Krystal, had come to their home-world entirely of her own volition, without them having to do a thing.

Silently sneaking away through the jungle towards the HQ of his hirers, which was located not that far away, Cain trod carefully as not to compromise his position. Having survived the crash of his Arwing caused by Krystal's newly appeared companion, his mind was bent on vengeance, but his rationale calmed him, reminding him to report this amazing arrival of Krystal to his hirers first. They would most likely send squads of troops out to sweep the jungle, capturing the vixen and the human in the process. When that happened, and when his masters had finished using Krystal for whatever they intended, Cain thought, he would certainly be allowed his revenge.

As he silently went through the night, Cain could not help grinning viciously at that thought. It pleased his feral and twisted mind a great deal.


	13. Chp 11: Capricious Fortune

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Hello again, everyone! I'm not dead, as some of you might have thought; on the contrary, I'm back… after an excruciatingly _long _wait! I'm well aware that you've all been waiting patiently for CtA to be updated, and here it is… the long-awaited next chapter. I hope that it can compensate for the time you've had to wait. I'll try to improve my update-rate in the future. As I've said previously, I don't intend to let this story die, no matter what, and it'll be a cold day in Hell before I let CtA rest incomplete… So you see, I WILL finish it! ;-)

For now, I need to extend my most heartfelt thanks to all of my faithful readers and reviewers for still holding on to this story. In particular, I'd like to thank **Ice Fox 111**, **foxbird22**, **knightcommander**, **GamerJay,** **DarthVenom2**, and also **Sir Raphael,** **Irish Redd**, and **JyrFalcon345** who have recently joined the group of reviewers. Thank you for your most inspiring and encouraging words, all of you. I owe you more than I can possibly explain with words.

Also, I'll be referring to events and persons, which appeared in the original G-Wing-story, in this chapter, so if you're in doubt about something and can't get it to fit, feel free to PM me, and I'll gladly explain it to you.

Now, enough of my ranting. Onwards with the chapter… and if you're wondering about the identity of the alien scientist, don't wait any longer! ;-) Enjoy, everyone!

**Chapter 11****: Capricious Fortune**

From Peppy's log: _I've just received information regarding G-Wing's progress in the battle against the aliens: It seems that they won't be helping us further in the space battle, since they've been ordered by General Pepper himself to take the alien HQ on the planet with a land-based offensive consisting only of their team. This also means that our team is one member short, since Krystal went to the planet with Ghost. For some reason, those two have begun working together again… Whatever the reason, I can only imagine that it will yield positive results in the forthcoming offensive by G-Wing. Show those aliens who they're dealing with, guys!_

"I'm telling you, she's right here, on this very planet, somewhere in the jungle! Right now!" Cain said insistently as he paced restlessly back and forth in front of his hirer, the alien scientist with the dome of life-sustaining machinery on his head. Present in the small room in the base was also General Scales, who had naturally also heard the strange claim stated by Cain: Krystal, the very subject of their grandiose military operation, had arrived on their world after all, even in spite of the aliens' recent and bitter defeat at the hands of the Cornerians.

As soon as Cain had returned to the alien HQ from the deep reaches of the jungle, he had immediately gone to the main control room, which housed some high-ranking alien personnel with General Scales as an overseer, and clearly expressed a wish in the midst of the chaotic commotion to speak with the leader of the operation – in other words, the person who had hired him for this particular assignment. He had also specified the exact nature of his message: Urgent information about the whereabouts of their subject, Krystal.

Regarding hired outsiders with nothing but disdain and contempt, dominated as he was by an extreme superciliousness and confidence in his own physical powers, General Scales chose to accompany the lupine traitor recruit to the alien scientist's quarters. If Cain provided his partner in crime with false information or tricked him otherwise, Scales would be ready to swiftly ensure the timely demise of Cain Tyler, since the wolf had effectively played out his part by now and was of no more use to them – at least within the vaguely defined parameters of the immediate future as it was thought by Scales.

As the two stepped into the small featureless room, which was encased by grey metallic plating walls on all sides and which housed nothing more than a rectangular metal table, a chair in which the alien scientist was sitting, a computer terminal and some miscellaneous scientific equipment such as empty vials and bottles, the inhabitant of the room did not seem drastically alarmed; on the contrary, he was as calm as could be, his face with the slightly purplish skin almost resembling an expressionless, placid mask. At first, upon their sudden entry into his quiet abode, the alien scientist regarded the two persons with immense indifference, but as Cain started to elaborate fervently on his newly made discovery in the jungle, the scientist's expression and demeanour became more and more attentive, until he was practically looking at Cain with undisguised perplexity about the – to him – unbelievable piece of news.

When Cain had finished his anxious report, however, the alien scientist looked at him with a both contemplative and stern gaze, and it was as if he were still deep in thought as he addressed Cain seriously but also absentmindedly, as if he had not yet fully reached a conclusion or conceived a course of action based on this newly obtained information. Undoubtedly, he was sensing a great opportunity in the scenario presented for him, but it was also clear that he did not want to waste valuable time and resources on something, which might easily be considered the nightly visions of an eager recruit.

With a voice that was almost nothing more than an intense mumble because of the importance it had for him to know that Cain understood everything he said perfectly, the alien scientist began to enquire earnestly into the matter with a most saturnine expression on his face, "Listen very carefully to what I ask you now, Cain. Are you absolutely sure of this? If you're not, then don't come in here stating such a preposterous claim ever again!"

Because he already knew the strongly capricious nature and conniving intellect of his hirer, Cain involuntarily swallowed as he heard the last threatening words of his remark. The scientist had made it crystal clear that if Cain were not certain in his observation, it could easily mean his demise. Faced with such a daunting prospect, the lupine recruit felt despair and hopelessness welling up inside him, and these powerful and acrimonious feelings made him scream out his statement again in a last desperate attempt to convince the scientist and Scales about the veracity of what he had just seen, "I swear, what I'm telling you is the truth! I saw Krystal out there, along with some strange guy dressed in a grey synthetic battledress or something like that…"

Upon realizing what he was actually saying, Cain abruptly stopped himself in mid-sentence in order to prevent himself from letting any more details, which did not really pertain to Krystal, cross his lips. However, contrary to what he had feared, this revelation did not prove to be to his detriment, but rather a way of salvation for him. The aquamarine eyes of the alien scientist immediately fixed themselves intensively on Cain as he told about Ghost, an expression of the utmost interest and anxiety conquering the facial features of the alien scientist before he looked at Scales, who merely replied to the gaze with an interrogative utterance.

"G-Wing?" the reptilian warrior asked in his rumbling voice, knowing that only the scientist and Cain had had their various encounters with this team of human soldiers. They had both met Mikki before, with fatal results to boot when the scientist had crossed the sergeant's path a month ago on Corneria. Cain had also met John, and in actuality Jakob as well, but the lupine recruit had not been able to get a clear enough impression of who Ghost was exactly as the commander had crashed into his Arwing while he was attempting to sabotage Krystal's ship during the interstellar war. Still, it did not take long for the scientist to deduce that Scales was right in his hypothesis of who Krystal's strange companion was.

"It might easily be a member of that team, yes. One we haven't met yet. After all, from what I've been told about Krystal, she spends quite a lot of her time with this team, so it's only natural that one of its members would accompany her here," he reasoned matter-of-factly, before turning his attention back to Cain with a seemingly appreciative smile on his mask-like face, "You continue to prove your further use to us, "recruit"," he smirked condescendingly, knowing full well of Cain's transition from his previous state as a member of the Cornerian Fleet into a corrupted being of malice, "Therefore, I think we'll let you live a little longer. Perhaps you might still have some use, even when we've captured Krystal and disposed of her now revealed companions," he concluded.

Behind Cain, General Scales let out an inarticulate growl of dissatisfaction as he lowered his clawed left hand from its tense state. He had kept his muscles prepared and ready to strike if he were told to eliminate the lupine recruit, and – seeing as killing violently pleased his savage mind beyond measure – now he was understandably disappointed with the scientist's decision. Scales had longed to thrust his razor-sharp claws into Cain's back and brutally sever his spine while enjoying the horrendous gushing fountain of blood, but apparently, the delicate sound of his spine snapping would have to wait. Instead of complaining further about this little problem, the reptilian general kept his composure and addressed the alien scientist enquiringly in his stentorian voice, "So, what do we do now?"

"Isn't it blindingly obvious what should be done, Scales?" the scientist retorted sharply, now positively brimming with eagerness because of the fantastic opportunity, which had now presented itself for him, even in spite of the fact that all of his forces had recently suffered an ignominious defeat, "Since Cain can't give us Krystal's precise location, I believe that it is up to us to find her ourselves. Send sweeper teams out in a circular pattern from this HQ – not Exterminators or Sharpclaw, mind you, but some of my troops. Arm them diversely, so that each team has the gear it needs to fight effectively in the jungle. Sniper rifles, automatic laser rifles… you know the routine. Have them locate Krystal by any means necessary and bring her back here in one piece. We wouldn't want the prime specimen for our project to be damaged, would we?" he asked with mock concern in his voice.

Cain merely nodded in affirmation, turned on his heel and paced hurriedly out of the room, as if that room for him had suddenly become the embodiment of mortal peril or gave off a frighteningly eldritch aura, which he could easily live without. General Scales, on the other hand, remained behind and looked questioningly at the alien scientist. There was still a lacuna he could not fill; one little detail in the plan, which eluded him, "How about the members of G-Wing, if they're all here?" he queried, "What should I tell the men to do with them?"

This little predicament did not seem to be a pressing matter for the alien, for he merely waved his hand indifferently in the air and answered the reptilian warrior airily, "Oh, they won't pose a threat. First of all, I believe that they only number around three persons. Even though they're most certainly soldiers, it is still hardly a number, which is immediately alarming, I daresay. Secondly, they don't have any relevance to my project; hence they are expendable. Tell the troops to kill them on sight," he ordered resolutely. In return, Scales answered him affirmatively and left the room to prepare the men for deployment.

Now alone in his sequestered locale, the alien scientist found that the moment was opportune for contacting someone, whose involvement in his project was as clandestine as his own activities on this planet. Switching on his computer, he started typing after the spectral luminescence of the screen had grown strong, indicating that the machine was online. Typing swiftly, quickly generating glowing strings of complex codes, which grew across the screen at an alarming rate, the scientist hacked into one of the most heavily encrypted Lylatian military communication channels in order to contact his accomplices… or rather, employers. As he finally opened up a section of the comlink, which he redirected to the coded cyberspace-location that his employers had given him, he started speaking calmly into the microphone, which was built into his computer, "This is Ki'Lek speaking. I'm afraid we may have a problem…"

---

The first thing, which he subconsciously registered as weird, was the sun playing on the outside of his eyelids.

As he slowly woke up from the deep slumber, which had gradually and stealthily seized him during the night, Jakob tried to force his previously dormant mind to replay the events of the night. Because of the initial haziness, which almost always clouds the mind in the first waking moments of a new day, he could only remember his nightly conversation with Krystal and his promise to her about acting as a vigilant sentinel for the duration of the night. However, his primary assumption as he lay on the grassy ground with his eyes closed was that he had utterly failed in this endeavour.

What made Ghost realize this was the strikingly obvious fact that it was no longer night. The umbral cape of darkness did not cover his eyes as he would have expected it to do when he woke up just before dawn, so he would have ample time to survey his surroundings meticulously in order to ensure Krystal's safety while the sun rose further above the horizon. Instead, quite contrary to this expected sight, his eyes closed instinctively as soon as he opened them, shielding him against the harsh glare of the newly risen sun; something he had not expected at all. Hence, waking up to this sight, Jakob could only conclude that he had unexpectedly drifted off to sleep during the night, and his first blunt – almost primordial – thought of the day reflected this frustration in one undeniable and perfectly clear realization:

"_Damn! I've overslept!"_

Cursing his own weakness of mind for not jolting him from the sweet embrace of sleep earlier, Ghost lay still on the soft, grassy ground and let the rejuvenating warmth of the sun fill him slowly as he considered his next move. Seeing as he had effectively shut off the visual part of his sensory perception by closing his eyes, his brain began to compensate, enhancing his other senses in order to give him an impression of the world around him, even though Jakob could not see it directly. As if he were suddenly imbued with exceptional senses, Ghost could actually feel that something with the shape of a blanket had been put over him and now accumulated the warmth of the sun. Oddly enough, it also smelt like leather. It did not take long for him to deduce that it was probably his trenchcoat, but how it got there was a complete mystery to him as of now, since he distinctly remembered letting Krystal borrow it as added protection from the nightly chill in the air.

The bright light of the sun formed a wavering cinnabar luminescence on the outside of his eyelids, and through this obscuring blur, Jakob could vaguely make out the black, shadowy contours of objects in the terrain around him. Faintly outlined against the sunlight, he could see the crowns, branches and trunks of large trees standing all around him in a circular pattern, except to one side, to his left. There, he knew, was the mysterious stream of lava, over which he had pondered so vigorously last night when he and Krystal arrived.

Taking his focus away from the immediate and impeded visual impressions as a faint cooling breeze blew over his face, Ghost instead concentrated on his hearing, trying to estimate his surroundings by their natural audible traits. Surprisingly enough, it did not take long for his attentive mind to sort the various audible impressions into a viable categorization of the various aspects of the immediate surroundings, producing a pretty clear mental picture in his head from these newly obtained data: He could hear birds chirping quietly in the leafy trees, just waking up to a new day. He could hear the morning breeze blow lazily through the leaves on the branches of the trees, producing a soothing rustling sound, which is only found in the unspoiled natural perfection of the forests. However, no matter how hard he tried to distinguish it from the garbled cacophony of natural noises around him, Jakob soon found a critical component to be lacking in this mesh of sounds. A particular sound, which he knew should be there by all probability, and which was imperative to his continuing the mission successfully:

There was no sound of Krystal breathing.

As soon as this fact hit him with all of its undeniable acuteness, an icy impulse of fear and panic immediately erupted in his stomach. However, as soon as the initial fright had dissipated, Ghost's coolly objective mind took over, using this piece of information as another step in his newly conceived contingency plan for adjusting to his surroundings properly, now that his primary plan of being a sentinel had failed. If Krystal did not breathe – which she should do, according to the undeniable veracity of the fact that she had slept beside him during the night – there could be several ways of explaining this strange and unexpected silence. One could be that she had gone out on her own, possibly to the Arwings, in order to search for food for the two of them, presumably the standard military rations, which their Arwings were loaded with as a part of the usual standard equipment. However, Jakob swiftly dismissed this idea from his mind, labelling it as highly improbable. He knew Krystal well enough to know that she would not take any unnecessary risks while in unknown enemy territory, and going out in bright daylight in order to find food for her partner and herself was really an unnecessary risk. The young Cerinian's mental acuity was too well developed for her to even think of undertaking such a rash endeavour, at least according to Ghost's estimation of the workings of her mind.

The other – and far more frightening – scenario was that Krystal had truly been eliminated silently, either now or during the night after Jakob had drifted off to sleep. If that was the case, Ghost could not discount the possibility that the assassin might still be snooping around their camp, waiting for him to come to, in order to extract information about classified Lylatian data from him. Just thinking that sinister thought made Ghost's right hand clench instinctively with anger, and because of this impulsive movement, he learned another thing about his immediate surroundings; his gloved right hand tightened around the all too familiar butt of one of his blasters. Again, Jakob could not remember exactly how it got there, but he assumed that he had been sitting with it in his hand during the night, and had not let go of it as he was seized by the darkness of sleep.

Now almost fully conscious and aware of the fact that he was actually armed, Ghost yet again attempted to attain the same mental focus as before, trying to divide the enhancement of his hearing and sight equally well. As he did so, the young human lay quiescent and did not let a single muscle stir in his face or body, nor did he adjust his position in any way, in order not to appear as if he were planning to pounce on an eventual hostile intruder, should he get the chance. His mental exertions did not seem to yield any highly satisfactory results at first; he heard the interweaving cacophony of natural sound again, and he could also see his surroundings as shadowy contours on the backdrop of the wavering luminescence, which was spread across his eyelids because of the sun shining directly at them.

Jakob was just about to relax and terminate this heightened sense of awareness, when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching his position softly and almost silently. Preserving his mental focus, Ghost tensed every muscle in his body, ready to act, while simultaneously trying to further assess the situation. Whoever was approaching was doing so quite stealthily, undoubtedly in order not to attract too much attention to him- or herself. What this person's purpose could be was completely unknown to Jakob, but the precarious way of moving only added to his hypothesis of there being an enemy assassin in their camp; someone who did not want to be seen or heard before the most opportune moment.

Ghost only had to wait a little longer before the mysterious entity was revealed as a blurry humanoid shape approaching him from the right. Unfortunately, Jakob was not able to distinguish many details because of the glare of the sun, but he did register that the form was quite lithe, unless that was merely the sunlight blinding him and playing tricks on his shielded eyes. Before he even knew it himself, the shadowy person was looming over him, reaching down towards him with one of its hands, in which it held something small and rectangular. Not wanting to find out in detail what this could possibly be, Ghost knew instinctively that his moment for acting had come.

With a move so sudden that it certainly demonstrated his lightning reflexes, Jakob – acting on assumptions, instincts and still with his eyes closed – violently threw away his trenchcoat, hoping that the move would somehow blur his next attack, and let his right leg sweep over the earth in a wide arc to his right, hoping to catch the intruder by surprise. He was convinced of his success as he felt his foot slamming into the legs of the figure, and without thinking about it, he fluently increased the force in his foot sweep, effectively toppling the mysterious figure. The intruder gave out a surprisingly feminine yelp as she fell down on the ground with a hard _thud_, but Ghost did not pause to even consider this fact before he acted again. Swiftly retracting his leg, he quickly snapped his eyes open as he sprang to his feet, slightly blinded by the sudden intake of sunlight. As he stood safely, he began to swing around to his right where the fallen intruder lay while raising his blaster – which he still clutched firmly in his right hand – to take aim.

"If you as much as blink, I'll fry your brain and..." Jakob began threateningly, but immediately cut himself short as he turned completely and had a clear line of sight to the person on the ground. As he saw who it was, his tense grip on the trigger instantly loosened, and he lowered his blaster slowly and wonderingly, frowning lightly in undisguised surprise at the unexpected sight.

Lying in a crumpled heap on the grassy ground, his Cerinian friend Krystal beamed merrily at him, the red gemstone in her tiara glimmering brilliantly in the sunlight as she looked at him, even in spite of having experienced his fierce attack. It did not seem as if she had sustained any injury, except from the fact that her beautiful cerulean headfur had been rustled around a bit from the sudden fall. The cerulean vixen was still clad in her aquamarine Team Star Fox-uniform, its synthetic cladding vaguely reflecting the light of Solar, and she was carrying her Cornerian sniper rifle across her back. Conceivably, she had opted to arm herself before proceeding into enemy territory to collect whatever it was that she had brought back.

However, Ghost did not get any more time to think about it at that particular moment, for his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Krystal's cheerful greeting, ""Well, good morning, Ghost!" she grinned mischievously, "I always knew that you were the type to be bursting with energy in the morning... and this is just a proof that I was right!" she smiled blithely.

Jakob looked amazedly at the young vixen before him, a look of complete and utter bafflement evident on his spare face with the slightly aquiline features, before he sighed irritably and put the chrome-coated blaster back into its empty holster at his right side again, "Oh dear God, Krystal! Can't you just be a little more careful next time you try to wake me? Don't sneak up on me like that ever again, especially not in the middle of enemy territory! For all I know when I'm half asleep, you might just as well be an enemy assassin trying to kill me, and as such I need to take every precaution I can, even defending myself like that. Please try and be more careful next time. I might easily have killed you!" he admonished her irascibly, the sharp edge in his voice actually stemming from concern about Krystal's well-being. As his anger dissipated, he started to speak apologetically and motioned towards his trenchcoat, which now lay in a disorderly heap on the ground, "Look, I'm sorry about that attack and my outburst just before, Krys; I really am. You just startled me a great deal, that's all. Now, I surmise it was you who put the coat over me when you got up and went off?" he asked, and continued upon seeing her nod in affirmation, "Oh, I see. And what exactly did you go out to get?"

"Well… Since you insist on interrogating me, help me up and I'll show you!" the cerulean vixen answered jokingly. Her seraphic smile betrayed her feigned seriousness, however, as she extended her right paw for Ghost to take and help her get back on her feet, still keeping the objects she had taken from the Arwings in her left. Chuckling quietly to himself, immediately realizing that Krystal was only joking, the commander inclined his head in acquiescence and reached down to grab her paw with his gloved hand. With a forceful yank, he pulled Krystal from the ground and back on her feet, but as he was about to let go of her paw again after she had thanked him, something caught his eye, gleaming at him from Krystal's paw as it reflected the sunlight. On one of her slender fingers, Krystal was wearing a piece of jewellery, which Jakob had never seen her with until now. It had to be relatively new, since he had never noticed it before, not even as he had come aboard the Great Fox a couple of days ago for his second stay in Lylat.

"Hmm… what's this, now? I don't recall having seen this before. Interesting. May I just study it a bit further?" Ghost asked politely, nodding towards the piece of jewellery. Krystal did not seem to be offended by his request; on the contrary, she only answered with an affirmative "Of course", and slid the ornament off her finger for him to look at. She knew full well that he did not ask her such a question to seem intrusive in her private space, but only to know what exactly was going on with his friend, so that he was able to aid her in whatever way she needed to be aided, even if the reason for this aid was to be found in a piece of jewellery.

Squinting his eyes to get a better look at the trinket, Jakob held the item between two gloved fingers and in the light of the sun as he appraised it meticulously. It was a ring of extraordinary splendour and craftsmanship, made entirely of gold with a purity which he estimated to lie around the perfect 24 carats. Incidentally, what made the ring so special was the unusual way in which it was crafted. Rather than just being one solid round piece of gold, the ring was made from extremely small interweaving strings of gold filigree, linked together to form an impeccable whole. On top of this ring, a magnificent flawless diamond scintillated in all of the imaginable hues of the visible spectrum, shimmering in a meshed blur of light, competing against the glimmering gold underneath.

"I must admit, Krys, that this is quite worthy of attention. Now, I don't exactly claim to be a connoisseur in the field of jewellery, but this ring is really quite characteristic by itself…" Ghost mumbled complimentarily with his characteristic British accent as he turned the ring in his grasp, examining it from every possible angle in a very thorough manner with the aid of his vision intensifier, "Exquisitely crafted, that's for sure… The gold used for the filigree is also expertly chosen and arranged… Of course, the diamond is a most immaculate and stunning specimen as well. It's as flawless as any highly exclusive diamond back on Earth!" he said approvingly before ending his examination of the ring and giving it carefully back to Krystal, who smiled thankfully at him before slipping it back on her finger.

"This is truly a wonderful piece of jewellery, Krystal, and you should be glad to possess such a symbol of perfection. I would be glad if I were you," the commander conceded with a smile, before assuming a thoughtful expression, "Now, who, might I ask, has entrusted this gift of excellence to you? Oh please, don't look at me like that, Krys; it's really quite obvious!" he said equably with conviction as Krystal regarded him with an uncomprehending expression on her face, apparently astounded at hearing his suggestion that the ring was a gift for her, "One needs only employ a modicum of ratiocination to deduce that you haven't bought this yourself. Admittedly, its state looks entirely new; however, I also know you well enough to be sure that you would never acquire such an undoubtedly expensive item just for the sake of displaying your wealth ostentatiously. That's simply not in your person. The only reasonable conclusion, which can be inferred from these facts, is that someone must have given it to you, most likely as a present or token of some sort. I hope it isn't too sensitive a matter to enquire into if I ask who's given it to you, just out of pure curiosity?" Jakob asked interrogatively as he bent down towards the grass to pick up his trenchcoat and put it back on.

For the shortest of moments, the young Cerinian seemed to look away from Ghost shamefully, hiding an embarrassed look and smile. She had not expected that anyone would notice the ring and begin asking questions about it. In her mind, she had planned to break the news about it to everyone when the time was right, but her incisive friend had apparently beaten her to it. With the smile still playing across her vulpine visage, Krystal told the human commander what he wanted to know, "Alright then, if you really want to know… it's from Fox. He bought it for me as an engagement ring… and he told me that it could easily be changed for a wedding ring at some point in the near future, although he hasn't proposed yet," she admitted, smiling even wider at seeing the reaction that her statement provoked from her friend.

As he was finished with putting on his coat and going over the various straps and buckles both on it and his ash-grey battledress, Jakob whistled to himself in admiration of what he had just heard and turned to face Krystal again, looking very impressed and arching an eyebrow in surprise, "My, my, what do you know? Well, that certainly clarifies matters," he chuckled amazedly, "Fox has really been out and about since the last time I was here. About time as well, I daresay. In all the time since you were accepted onto the team, he has never been able to suppress his strong affection and undisguised love for you. In fact, it almost radiated visibly from him! Well, at any rate, I'm glad that he's finally admitted all that to you, Krystal… and I'm quite impressed by his aesthetic faculties, as well. That ring is truly wondrous! Still, I understand that there's no wedding planned yet?" he asked, and continued upon seeing the cerulean vixen shake her head in denial, "Well then, when it does transpire, I'd be very grateful if you could notify me about it. I'd be honoured to be present at such a joyous ceremony… and so would Mikki and John as well, without a doubt. We just need to tell them about it when we meet up with them later on… if it's okay with you, of course?" he queried respectfully, awaiting Krystal's response.

The young Cerinian looked just as amazedly at Ghost as he had looked at her before when she revealed the nature of the ring. She was truly dazzled about the unperturbed and equable demeanour, which Jakob had shown just now, even in spite of being presented with such a – to her – sensational and earth-shattering piece of news. The more she considered it, the more Krystal felt certain that she could entrust G-Wing with this secret. They were honest and righteous people, even if they did originate from another solar system, and she imagined that telling them this would only increase their willingness to fight and look after each other, since they would have an incredible fact to share.

As she was about to answer him, the cerulean vixen suddenly remembered something, which her friend had said in his previous remark, and in remembrance of this, she altered her answer accordingly to include the thing she was going to affectionately compliment him for, "You know what, Jakob? It's completely fine with me. Your friends are just as excellent persons as yourself, so I can't see any harm in telling them about it, too. And by the way… thank you for being so certain that Fox and I will be married. About the wedding, you said: "When it _does _transpire…", as if you were completely certain that it would happen," she said to him hesitantly, still feeling as if there was something about the certainty in his statement that she could not comprehend.

However, this was immediately answered by a just as affectionate reply from Ghost, who just looked at her with a mirthful smile lining his lips, "My dear, if ever there were a fact in the entire universe, which embodied indisputable certitude, that would be it," he said amicably in affirmation of the veracity of his own certainty regarding Fox and Krystal's future. Suddenly shaking his head to get rid of multiple stray thoughts, he sent her a strangely bewildered smile, as if he were abruptly amazed by something, before elaborating on his state of mind, "Wow! It's really amazing how large a philosophical discussion that can be derived from simply looking at such a small thing as your ring. It was most enlightening, and I thank you for it, my friend. Now, to return to the matters at hand, I believe that you had procured some objects from the Arwings and were about to show me what they were. Isn't that right, Krys?" he enquired as he slumped back down on the grass, wanting to get back to the real reason for why they were here; the imminent strike on the alien HQ.

Immediately returning to her traditional insouciant mood, Krystal nodded and stretched out her left paw to reveal four square packages wrapped tightly in light-brown paper. Whatever was inside the packages had to be very compactly manufactured, since they were relatively small in size. She threw two of these anonymously looking packages to Jakob, who just looked at her inquisitively until she explained what they were, "I figured you'd probably be hungry when you woke up, so I decided to go and get some rations from our Arwings. Go ahead and eat one. I'm sure you'll thank me for it later when we're deep inside enemy territory, because that is the last thing you'll see for some time, which even vaguely resembles food!" she grinned as she sat down on the grass next to Ghost, knowing full well about the quality of military rations.

Composed entirely of various nutritious substances and vital minerals and vitamins, all compressed to fit into an easily transportable block, rations were not exactly gourmet-food, but merely created to be quickly consumed while giving a soldier everything he or she required in the field when it came to nutrition and performance-heightening ingredients. In actuality, rations were infamous among the military for their sometimes directly appalling taste, but still, even that was something every soldier willingly lived through because he knew that his body would be kept in tip-top shape in return.

The commander thankfully accepted the rations, which Krystal gave him, and as he started to unpack one, he could not keep a wry smile from flashing across his slightly aquiline visage as a strange thought struck him, "Heh, you know Krystal… Back on Earth, foxes are claimed to be excellent foragers. I'm eager to see if this argument is also plausible when it comes to extraterrestrial beings," he said jokingly before taking a bite of the light-brown, dry and compressed mass, which was the ration. Its stale taste came as a shock to him every time he ate one; he was used to eating well-prepared and rather exclusive food, so the fact that something edible could not even have the slightest nuance of an interesting flavour was completely beyond him. Still, it was extremely filling nonetheless, he thought as he swallowed his current bite of the ration and took another, chewing on it contemplatively.

Now that he did not have any pressing militaristic matters intruding upon his mind, Ghost found his usual equanimity to be restored in this abrupt moment of quietude; and with it, a most preternatural awareness began to sharpen his senses. As he looked around him at the lush surroundings, he could suddenly tell that something was definitely amiss, although he could not figure out exactly what at the moment. As was almost to be expected, Krystal noticed these fluctuations in his thought patterns with her extremely sensitive telepathy, and she decided to enquire into the matter while devouring her own ration greedily; apparently, the stale taste did not seem to affect her noticeably, "What's wrong, Ghost?" she asked tentatively, looking searchingly at him, "Did you hear something or what?" In actuality, the cerulean vixen very much doubted that this was the reason for his sudden discomfort, since she would undoubtedly have been able to hear whatever it might be with her keen senses.

In reply, Jakob merely looked back at Krystal with a suddenly exasperated look on his face, "If only it were that simple, Krys," he sighed before taking yet another bite of his ration and chewing on it slowly and thoughtfully, "If it was a sound that disturbed me, I would be less horrified than I am now. No, it's nothing like that. Rather, it's the stillness that worries me," he explained sombrely, leaning back against the grassy slope in order to relax better and determine the exact reason for his sudden feeling of dread, still keeping a steady vigil, "This whole place stinks… Metaphorically speaking, that is. Can't you smell it?" he mumbled inarticulately to his friend, deeply lost in thought, "Everything's too pretty, too bright, too lush. It's as if we're supposed to stay here in this idyllic haven and be sitting ducks for the squad that's waiting to ambush us in the bushes or whatever… And now this sudden silence as well… This planet is capricious, Krystal; I have no doubt about that,"

Following her friend's example, fuelled by a desire to know what he was talking about, the young Cerinian tried to sharpen her eyes and ears while glancing around their impromptu campsite, looking for whatever that had distressed Ghost. At first glance, their surroundings did not present any sinister possibilities for lethal threats to arise. All the way to the edge of the lava-filled crevice in the ground, a carpet of viridian grass competed in splendour of colour with the cerulean cloudless sky overhead. From above, the golden orb of Solar spread its glimmering rays of light on the ground below. Sometimes, these rays collided with the leafy and verdant canopies of the trees and were then broken into several smaller rays, filtered through the lush aegis of nature, and down onto the ground below. It was under such a tree, in the cool shade, that Jakob and Krystal were currently sitting, their figures appearing smeared with streaks of gold because of the sporadic fields of sunlight shining on them.

However, as the young vixen took her time and listened, she gradually came to realize what Ghost had talked so cryptically about just before. The mild cacophony of birdsong, which had been undeniably ubiquitous throughout the entire jungle as the military duo had woken up, had now abruptly fallen silent, giving way for a most unsettling silence. Furthermore, the wind had died down, no longer adding to the subconsciously natural din of nature with its rustling of trees, and while it was in fact pleasant to be rid of the discordant sound, it was also quite strange, since the silence that ensued from this was not commonly found in a jungle.

The human commander was rather surprised as he heard Krystal voice her observation in a safe way, possibly in fear of being discovered or heard by eventual enemy spies; not in a whisper or other such thing, but through her innate telepathy, _"I sense it, too, Jakob!"_ her voice suddenly rang out clearly in his mind, still quavering with barely contained discomfort, _"It's as if nature itself has fallen silent, waiting for something. I wonder what's wrong…"_

As much as he regretted not being capable of telepathy, Ghost knew that he could not answer Krystal back in the same way. Instead, he slowly bent towards her so that she could clearly read his lips, and spoke in the most silent whisper that he could muster while still trying to pronounce the words articulately, "It's good that we both agree on something being amiss, Krys, but I don't want to wait and see what's wrong. On the contrary, I think it might be prudent to get out of here right now and find Shield and Saber. Grab your gear and let's go… and keep your eyes open! I have a feeling that there's more to this jungle than meets the eye. We'll head east from here and converge on Shield's position first, since it's closest to where we are now. Let's move!" he ordered, after glancing briefly at his Cornerian satellite uplink around his wrist to make sure that he was giving the right direction for them to walk in.

With that, and without further ado, Jakob resolutely stuck his spare ration in his belt, checked that he was in possession of all of his weapons – blasters and SMGs as well as his knife – before swiftly crossing the clearing and stepping over to the trees at the eastern side, waiting for Krystal as a substantial shadow among the trees, clad as he was in his night-black trenchcoat. Luckily, the young cerulean vixen did not take long to finish and ready herself. She followed his example and stuck her spare ration in her belt as well, and then merely checked that she still carried her retracted golden Cerinian staff in her belt and that her sniper rifle was safely fastened across her back before she ran quickly across the clearing as well, joining her human friend at the rim of the trees.

Maintaining their arduous vigilance, the duo began to walk east in between the trees, the one not straying from the other's side with as much as an inch. Krystal's eyes darted back and forth to look at anything that even gave off the slightest movement, and Ghost continuously kept his right hand just above the butt of his blaster at his right side, the muscles in his arm tense and ready to draw the weapon with startling speed if something hostile should unexpectedly come their way from the unknown interior of the jungle.

However, despite their heightened senses and alert minds, Jakob and Krystal did not immediately detect that they were in fact being watched as they traversed the lush terrain – unbeknownst to them, they were being watched by unseen eyes.

---

Ghost was not the only one in possession of an immensely foreboding prescience of an impending calamity. As he woke up with a start behind the natural bulwark of rocks, behind which he had prudently elected to spend the night in cover, Mikki could also tell that something had to be wrong, since he woke in this sudden fashion. Instinctively, he reached for his Lylatian Gatling gun which stood beside him, leaning against the rock next to his crimson rocket launcher, and not soon thereafter he sat with the cobalt-blue weapon across his legs, ready to open fire if need be, while contemplating fiercely what could be the source of his waking discomfort.

Shield knew perfectly well that the subconscious was more alert to subtle miniscule details, which could not be perceived by the fragment-thinking waking mind. Hence, the only feasible explanation that existed for his premature awakening was that – deep down in his subconscious – his cerebrum had evidently registered a sound or an impulse, which it estimated and categorized as being dangerous or threatening, thus alerting the defences of the body and waking him up. However, as the human sergeant ever so slowly and carefully craned his neck around the barrier-like mound of rock to check for approaching hostiles or whatever had sparked his abrupt awareness, he did not spot any threats advancing towards his position from the unknown verdant reaches of the surrounding jungle.

Grumbling slightly in annoyance because he could not find a satisfactory explanation for his being jolted from sleep so prematurely and apparently without reason, Mikki slumped down behind the barrier yet again and adjusted his heavy flak vest, drawing it tighter against his body to prevent the relatively low morning-temperature from chilling him. From there, not knowing what else to do for the moment, Shield suddenly fell into a state of calm idleness, tapping his weapon impatiently and stroking his characteristic goatee in thought as he considered his next move.

From seeing the Cornerian satellite images and hearing Pepper's orders the day before, he could gather that Saber, Ghost and Krystal were all out in the jungle somewhere, and if they were to conquer the alien HQ on the planet by force and disrupt their operations, Team G-Wing had to regroup and develop a plan together, one that utilized the particular synergy between their talents, which could only arise when the four of them worked together as a team. It would not yield any highly desirable results, Mikki concluded contemplatively, if each of the team members attempted to infiltrate the base on his or her own. If the defences, which he and his Landmaster-forces had recently ploughed their way through, were any indication of how well these aliens fortified their military installations of strategic importance, then the main base would in all probability be extremely heavily guarded, and attempting to infiltrate it as a solo-effort would doubtless be suicide… even though, the sergeant admitted complacently, with his abilities, he should in fact be able to do it.

Smiling wryly as this little joke formed itself in his cerebrum, Shield quickly dismissed the possibility of it being true before realizing the incontrovertible truth: G-Wing would need each other in order to successfully complete this mission; there was no way around it. Finally halting his train of thought with this indisputably veracious fact, Mikki suddenly began to wonder what to do about food. His stomach was beginning to feel quite empty, and he realized that he had not eaten for a considerable period of time. Furthermore, the only edible supplies he had brought were left in his Landmaster, a long distance away from his current position. Shield did not exactly enjoy the rather horrifying prospect of traversing enemy terrain just for the sake of procuring some food. His hunger was not critical, the sergeant estimated after some time; he could go on some more… besides, if it absolutely came to an emergency, there had to be at least some partially edible fungi or fruits around. This was a jungle, after all…

Content with that thought, Mikki was about to lay back his head, close his eyes and rest some more, when a most unnerving noise violently punctuated the dull – almost tangible – field of stillness and silence in the immediate area like a sharpened knife ripping forcefully through delicate cloth, and made his adrenaline pump violently through his veins in the blink of an eye, spreading throughout his person like energizing shockwaves and sharpening his senses to an extreme state of acuity. The noise, which was definitely too abrupt to be a part of the natural din, was the resounding, sharp and crisp _crack_ of a branch or a twig, which was broken underfoot. Judging from the loudness of the noise, who- or whatever had stepped on the branch had to be quite heavy or muscular; however, what made Shield so nervous was that he had not been able to hear any footfalls as the unknown entity was closing in on his position. This told him that whoever was approaching had a desire to be as uncompromised as possible, wanting to sneak in and presumably take the human sergeant by surprise. Indeed, Mikki conceded, the intruder would have succeeded in carrying out his objectives, had it not been for the mysterious ways of fate, which helped to warn Shield that an intruder was coming and which enabled him to take sufficient precautions in anticipation of an imminent assault on his position.

Swiftly and methodically, Mikki considered which of his armaments was the most strategically efficient in this situation. As much as he hated to admit it, he had to regard the use of his rocket and one remaining grenade as limited to an absolute emergency, since these were the most destructive of his weapons and could truly work wonders against armoured targets or large numbers of enemies. Besides, using a high-explosive weapon in a probably highly combustible forest was something only an amateur would do because of the easily foreseeable and life-threatening consequences. A forest-fire could easily start; a fire over which he had no control, and in which he might easily perish, even though that had not been his original intent. So it was with a kind of nostalgic smile lining his lips that Shield patted his cobalt-blue Lylatian plasma Gatling-gun affectionately and crouched down behind the mound of rocks to steady himself and his aim, resting the barrel of the weapon on the top, barely visible. While waiting anxiously for his enemy, the would-be stealthy intruder, to show himself, Mikki peeked cautiously over the edge, letting his blue-grey eyes move slowly across his surroundings, taking in every significant detail.

His position afforded him an extremely clear and broad field of fire, crouched as he was behind the rocks. He could easily pepper the surrounding area with plasma bolts from his weapon, since the enemy would have nowhere in the immediate vicinity to hide. Before him, the grassy clearing which housed his barrier stretched out to all sides, leaving an open area without any trees to hide behind. Off to the sides in the circle formed by the clearing, however, the large and broad tops of some of the most ancient trees seemed to reach almost longingly into the clear sky overhead, vines and leaves encircling the wrinkled and sturdy trunks. If the enemy needed a hiding place from his barrage, Shield thought, that would be it. However, such a position would also hamper their aim quite a bit, since they could only fire upon him from an angle blocked by trees. Feeling satisfied and confident about his choice of position, Mikki waited anxiously with his weapon at the ready, and fortunately enough, he did not have to wait for long before his enemy revealed itself.

Warily sneaking through the twisted passages formed by the wildly growing trees, the human sergeant spotted a squad of six men moving cautiously through the woods, appearing amongst the thin rim of trees by his clearing, allowing him to get a precise picture of the hostiles, which had broken the branch just before and alerted Mikki to their presence. They were humanoid in shape and size, but that was also where every feasible point of comparison to a normal human ended. Firstly, their limbs were much too spindly and long to be the size of the limbs on a normal human, making their frames long and slender, and secondly, their skin possessed a vague purple complexion that seemed to glitter faintly in the sunlight. Each of them was clad in an olive-coloured battledress, no doubt in order to enhance their stealth and camouflage them within the lush jungle, and they were carrying what appeared to be long and sleek high-powered automatic laser-rifles.

These weapons looked very much like traditional assault rifles from Earth with their long, thin bodies and rectangular energy-cells protruding from the undersides; however, there were a few differences. Firstly, these extraterrestrial constructs were made entirely from a strange type of opaque grey metal, which did not give off much light as the golden sunlight played dimly across the weapons. Secondly, approximately at the middle of the body of the rifles, a small screen with glowing digital numbers was placed, informing the soldier wielding the weapon of the number of shots, which was available in the energy-cell.

As he fixed his gaze on the alien troopers approaching his position cautiously, Shield felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of deja-vu, as if his brain were rapidly backtracking through time to find an image, which coincided with the particular physical traits of the advancing commandos. At last, with the scorching light of an epiphany spreading across his mind's eye, he remembered where he had seen a being, which physically resembled these troops: On the battlefield with his Landmaster-division, after he and his men had decimated the first alien mound by sheer and unrelenting force. The human sergeant remembered his observations from that time, and thus also remembered how he had estimated the alien trooper to be a part of the alien race, which claimed this world as their home, since they were not mechanically enhanced like the other alien troops and Sharpclaw, which the Cornerians had also encountered. Mikki did not doubt for a second that this race was in actuality the denizens of a completely different domicile somewhere among the stars of the universe, but his train of thought about this matter was swiftly derailed as the soldier, who held the forward position in the group, held up his right hand and moved it forwards jerkily a couple of times. Shield knew enough about militaristic sign-language to deduce from this that the trooper was signalling the rearguard to catch up with him, and rightly so, for the two soldiers at the back came running up past the others and looked expectantly at their leader.

"Spread out!" he ordered in a cold and murmuring voice, "Remember, the blue vixen is not to be harmed! We've received very clear orders from HQ about that. Any of her companions, however, should be killed on sight. The intruders have to be around here somewhere. Find them!" he commanded brusquely, and at the sound of this last utterance, the two soldiers that had formerly belonged to the rearguard began to advance slowly and carefully out into the open, pointing their weapons this way and that in order to aim at every sudden movement. Their comrades followed close behind, their weapons likewise trained on practically every corner of the clearing, providing each other with 360 degrees of effective cover.

For every step they advanced into the clearing and neared his position behind the rocks, Mikki felt the surge of adrenaline in his body growing bigger, and he shivered in barely controlled anticipation of the moment when he would strike the troops, who were so blissfully unaware of his presence. The high degree of fluidity with which they moved, aimed their weapons at different angles of the terrain and changed positions dynamically led Shield to believe – quite correctly – that these were professional soldiers with notable military skills, even though they were aliens. Also, he noticed as he cautiously looked over the edge of the rocks, in spite of their rapid shifts in position, they still kept a basic formation pattern: The two vanguards kept their positions at the front, while the leader had retreated to the back, keeping a watchful eye on their rear. This small degree of static positions proved, oddly enough, to be to the enemy's undisguised detriment, since Mikki had now effectively chosen his primary targets from behind his cover. His blue-grey eyes were set determinedly on the two soldiers at the front.

If a simple gaze could kill, the two vanguards would already have been dead by now, for the human sergeant's stare was incredibly intense. In reality, though, he just visibly marked and recorded the targets within his head, so that – when he swung up from behind cover to take aim – he would know exactly who to shoot, since such an intense focus aided him in distinguishing specifically chosen foes from their otherwise identical companions. Mere heartbeats before the crucial manoeuvre, however, Shield did something completely contrary to what else he had done and the other impulses he had felt up until now. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, savouring the natural cleanness and freshness of the air and letting it clear the obscuring hazes of immediate anticipation from his mind. Then, as he felt that his body, mind and aim had been rightly attuned, Mikki did what he had planned to do for so long since he had spotted the alien commandos.

With an almost uncanny swiftness, which definitely exceeded his normal celerity on the battlefield, Shield broke cover, aligned the massive Lylatian plasma Gatling-gun on the chest of one of the two troopers at the front, and fired a short burst of shots. The muffled, almost thumping, sound of the plasma rounds being released from the weapon broke the almost tangible silence as easily as the snapping of the branch had done for the alien troopers, and for the space of a heartbeat, the unlucky soldier just stared at the five azure bolts of energy, which came streaking through the air towards him, discharged from the monstrously huge weapon of their recently revealed target. Just as the plasma rounds forcefully slammed into the chest of the soldier, frying his flesh, crushing his bones underneath and almost ripping his chest open by the sheer amount of energy within the shots, Shield had switched targets to the next soldier at the front, who received a similar salvo of five shots to the chest in a single, short and noisy burst. Both alien commandos lost the grip on their weapons and were blown backwards from the tremendous force contained within the shots, and as their bodies collided limply with the grassy ground, they only had time for a faint gurgle before they expired with a sudden gasp, smoke still rising from the overly large holes in their ravaged chests and their glassy eyes staring vacantly into nothingness. Their faces had now assumed the rigidity of a mask or something constructed, proving that they were no longer of this world. The entire manoeuvre had taken no more than the narrow span of approximately two heartbeats, which even Mikki very much doubted, since his heart was now beating hectically, invigorated by the sudden action.

For the shortest of moments, it seemed as if the entire alien sweeper team were frozen in place by the numbing cold of fright, which had erupted in their midst just now, staring uncomprehendingly at the newly slain soldiers before them. However, this stoic amazement of death appearing so suddenly and striking so swiftly was summarily negated by the leader as he bellowed a deafening order, which echoed across the clearing, "Scatter!" he shouted while turning and sprinting for cover himself, "Don't let him get you in his sights! Get to cover!"

This order understandably took some time to register in the numbed minds of the bewildered and shocked troopers, and this initial hesitation without shooting back at Shield proved to be disastrous. As the remaining soldiers turned in order to flee to the protective cover of the trees that surrounded the clearing, Mikki lined his weapon up for another barrage and squeezed the trigger in relentless determination. Another volley of vibrant plasma rounds erupted from the barrel of the weapon and struck a fleeing soldier in the back, right along the spine. As he was mercilessly riddled with fierce plasma fire, the alien commando toppled over onto the ground with weird, jerky spasms and with a quavering scream of pain reverberating in his throat.

However, despite these two consecutive victories, what forced Shield to abruptly duck back into cover was the retribution, which was exacted quickly upon him from the three surviving members of the alien sweeper team. They had apparently found their way to the dense foliage on either side of the clearing, and they now brought their weapons to bear. Countless cascades of ruby-red laser beams came flying through the gaps in the trees, colliding forcefully with the human sergeant's mound of rocks. Initially, the mound seemed to hold; however, as time passed, the rock proved to be much less unyielding than Mikki had expected. Ever so slowly, he could feel the rock disintegrating and trembling violently as a result of suffering the continuous onslaught of energy. Still, he did not allow himself to succumb to the influence of panic upon his mind; he simply dismissed it with one staunch thought:

"_I've got to live through this! It's the only way I can see my friends again. They __count on me to be alive and meet with them… and that's the reason why I've got to kick some butt right now!"_ Shield thought determinedly, aligning his aim yet again and springing from cover to look around in search of the hostiles.

---

Sounds carry far and wide in a relatively open and silent jungle, and it was this fact that caused other people to know about Mikki's dire predicament, even though they were not located right next to his position, but some distance to the west.

For some time now, Jakob and Krystal had warily made their way through the winding paths of open space between the trees, expecting an ambush or a direct frontal assault every time they rounded a new trunk. However, nothing sprang at them furiously from the uncharted interior of the jungle; everything remained placid and still as the young human and the cerulean vixen cautiously traversed the terrain between several leafy trees. It was a most unnerving and incredibly tiresome feeling to constantly maintain a sharp vigil because of an initial suspicion of an impending disaster or ambush, when there proved to be nothing for this vigil to be manifested in, except for one's own delusions.

The military duo had just entered an area of the jungle where the density of the trees began to lessen, and where dense, tall clumps of lush shrubbery began to dominate the landscape, when their arduous vigilance finally paid off. Far off in the direction they were heading, they could suddenly hear a muffled booming sound, as if a high-velocity particle weapon were being fired in a concentrated burst. Luckily enough, this was also the case, and in the strained ears of Ghost and Krystal, the violent but well-known thunder of the Lylatian Gatling gun sounded almost comfortingly familiar after having spent so much time in what seemed like a ubiquitous, preternatural and substantial cape of silence. Upon hearing the sound, Krystal's dismal and anxious features softened up to make way for an immensely wide smile as she looked at her companion, "That's got to be Shield! I know that gun when I hear it!" she exclaimed happily, relieved to finally hear a sound she was comfortable with, instead of hearing no sounds at all.

In reply, Jakob merely looked at Krystal's effervescent visage and nodded once in acceptance, a wry smile finding its way across his otherwise rigid face, "You're perfectly right, Krystal. No-one but Shield possesses a weapon, which fires like that. On the other hand, though, it would seem that he's encountered opposition," Ghost mumbled worriedly as he heard the far more shrill sounds of other laser weapons being discharged after Mikki's barrage, "If we don't get to him soon, I doubt that he'll be able to fire much longer. Not even Mikki can fire a weapon while in Death's cold grasp, I'm afraid. Let's go!" he insisted, and – upon seeing the young Cerinian's affirmative nod – broke into a run with Krystal following right behind him.

Flittering in and out between the tall and vine-encircled trees and viridian shrubbery, his trenchcoat billowing behind him and giving the impression of a ghost in flight – validating his aptly chosen codename –, Jakob took up the lead, trying to discern where exactly the thunderous roar of Shield's gun had come from. However, this soon proved to be something near an insurmountable endeavour, since the trees seemed to be grouped in completely identical manners no matter where he looked. Deep down, he knew that the only thing he could do was to keep running east and trust his instincts the next time a burst was fired from Mikki's weapon.

Ghost's blind rush to his friend's whereabouts, however, was ended abruptly and in a fashion, which caused the young human commander much annoyance. As he ran, he continually squinted his eyes against both the harsh glare of the sun and the verdant blur of the lush jungle ahead, trying to distinguish minute and important details from the rest. Indeed, his visual acuity was rewarded, but unfortunately, what he glimpsed was the last thing he had ever wanted to see in the middle of the jungle. The unexpected appearance of this thing made him stop so suddenly that Krystal almost collided with him, and it was only because of her lightning reflexes that she managed to brake her run, coming to a halt with a hand on Jakob's shoulder to steady herself in the first few moments after she had stopped.

"What's wrong? Did you see something?" she panted apprehensively, trying to catch her breath while checking her friend's reason for this sudden stop. As she did so, Krystal glanced around quickly in order to estimate their new surroundings. They had apparently stopped in what seemed like the middle of the new shrubbery-dominated landscape, for two tall and exceptionally dense bushes reared up on either side of them. Further away, the trees were grouped in a way, which was vaguely reminiscent of a passage between pillars, for the broad trees stood relatively far apart in some fairly symmetrical rows, leaving ample space to walk between them while being flanked by them on both sides.

However, Ghost did not answer her query, much to her bewilderment. Instead, he only kept gazing towards the horizon, a worried expression on his face and his eyes squinted so tightly that it was almost as if he kept his eyes shut. A nearly inaudible beeping sound, which seemed to originate from his left eye, told the cerulean vixen that he utilized his vision intensifier in trying to rediscover what he had seen previously. From carefully probing his mind with her telepathic powers, Krystal could tell that whatever he had seen was something, which caused him unimaginable fear.

"Come on… I saw you before, and I'll be damned if you're going to hide from me now. Show yourself again!" he mumbled tensely, completely ignoring Krystal and keeping his focus as he still stared intensely into the horizon, focusing on a large and lush tree a good distance away. However, his eyes soon widened suddenly, and his vigilance was negated only a few moments afterwards by the presence of true, undisguised horror in his mind as he apparently succeeded in spotting something very dreadful in the distance, "Holy hell! In here, now!" Jakob hissed tersely to Krystal before seizing her left wrist in an iron grip from his gloved right hand and flinging himself head first into the dense shrubbery to his left with a cracking sound of branches being snapped, Krystal following right behind him, since she was literally dragged along.

After having adjusted himself and disentangled his clothes from the most resilient branches, Ghost looked out through the small gaps in the dense foliage, which now acted as a most excellent cover for the human and his Cerinian partner. The area from which they had come looked the same; still, unchanging, with no suddenly appeared threats or anything which could visibly have sparked the human commander's noticeable discomfort mere moments before. However, his sight had drifted to the large tree a bit further to the east, and it was this which seemed to have been the source of his dread. As carefully as it was humanly possible, Jakob tried to stretch his neck out and look at the tree again, but his rather awkward position inside the bush hindered him effectively in doing so.

Since she had also managed to come free of the fiercely entangling foliage by now, Krystal noticed the oddly paranoid behaviour exhibited by her friend and decided to demand an explanation for the seemingly impulsive stunt he had just pulled. Brushing a few twigs out of her cerulean fur, she addressed him blithely; apparently, she did not mind the drastic change in surroundings as long as Ghost could justify it, "Well, Ghost, that was different!" she said with a smile, indicating the filtered interior of the bush with a sweep of her hand, "Normally, I don't mind picnics, but being dragged into a bush does seem quite strange, to be honest with you. Did you spot something?" she asked him jokingly with her characteristic accent, well aware that he probably had a very good reason for acting as rashly as he had just done.

With an expression of the purest sincerity, Jakob turned his head to look at the young Cerinian, clearly letting her understand that whatever he had witnessed was not something which should be joked about so carelessly. Nonetheless, his features softened up in a rather strained smile of appreciation as he realized that Krystal was not so easily demoralized, and as he began to speak, his British accent shone through as well, "In actuality, I don't mind picnics either, Krystal. I honestly find them quite enjoyable. However, you were right in your query. I did spot something just before; something which would undoubtedly ruin such a splendid picnic. Still, I can't get a clear visual on it now. My vision intensifier seems to have trouble functioning with all this foliage hanging around us. Hence, in order to incontrovertibly affirm the presence of this potential interloper, I need to borrow your scope, if you don't mind," he requested politely, his gaze settling upon the detachable scope on top of Krystal's sniper rifle.

Tilting her head as she assumed a rather bemused expression – but not bothering to protest about the queerness of the request, either, since she knew that he had to have a plan –, Krystal brought a hand to the scope on the rifle, pulled it loose with a slight yank, and gave it carefully to Ghost, who accepted it with a grateful smile before putting it to his right eye and looking through it, sticking it slightly out through a gap in the bush, which faced the large tree to the east. As he did so, he closed his left eye tightly while adjusting the sharpness and distance of the scope with his free hand. Everything had fallen silent again, if one excluded the remote thundering noise of Mikki's Gatling gun, and the eerie silence was only broken by miniscule clicks from the scope as Jakob adjusted it and his sporadic mumbling to himself while calibrating the visual specifications of the scope. Finally, it seemed as if he had rediscovered his previous target, for as Krystal watched, his body gave an abrupt jerk and he immediately lowered the scope and turned to her, his face as stern and sincere as it only rarely was, doubtless evidencing mortal peril.

"Right, Krystal," he said, speaking in a voice which was barely above a whisper, "I've found what spooked me just before. Come over here and take a look… but move quietly! Don't make any sudden movements and don't do anything, which might make the leaves waver. We'd only give our position away like that," he commanded, carefully moving away from his position as Krystal turned and prepared to look through the gap in the bush, which he had just used. As Ghost handed her the scope, his tone was almost nothing more than an intense hiss because of the anxiety, which had visibly conquered him, "I really don't dare to point, but just look at that large tree up ahead, approximately five branches above ground," he instructed, watching as the cerulean vixen closed one of her emerald eyes while focusing on the place he had told her with the scope.

After some time, however, during which nothing conclusive had appeared in the scope at all, not even the vaguest indication of a living being amongst the viridian leaves, Krystal shook her head and was about to put the scope back on her rifle when Jakob whispered confidently in her ear, "Don't give up, Krys. It takes some time, but it'll come sooner or later. You'll see." Convinced by the added note of resolve and determination in her friend's voice, Krystal nodded and continued keeping the place under her own private surveillance. Indeed, she did not have to wait long, just as Ghost had predicted, for within the next fifteen seconds, she suddenly spotted a most strange phenomenon amidst the leaves. Within the monotony of green leaves and branches, the sunlight flared up, glinted for the shortest of moments as it shone on a certain spot, before returning to its normal luminous intensity, almost as if it were being reflected in a bright surface of some kind.

Now fully convinced that Jakob was right about his feeling of dread, and that he was not acting because of some inner misgivings about their route, the young Cerinian lowered the scope from her eye and turned her head to look at her human companion, her expression being one of utter certainty as she enquired interrogatively into the nature of what she had just seen in the tree, "Yeah, you were right, Ghost; I saw something up there, something bright… but I really can't figure out what it was. Maybe an enemy recon device or something?" Krystal suggested.

"No, it was nothing of the sort," Jakob denied gloomily, "That was the flash of a sniper's scope reflecting the sunlight if ever there was one… and that's not even all of it. Look down below, on the ground," he urged her dismally, causing Krystal to look through her impromptu binoculars in the form of her scope once more. In the circular field of vision, which the scope afforded, the cerulean vixen glimpsed three alien troopers, outfitted with automatic laser-rifles and clad in olive-coloured camouflage-uniforms, who approached their position carefully, advancing through the passage between the pillar-like trees a bit further ahead from Ghost and Krystal's current position.

"We're in trouble," Krystal admitted bluntly as she mounted the scope on top of her sniper rifle again and brushed her cerulean hair away from her eyes, "The enemy must know that we're here somehow, and has sent sweeper teams to eliminate us… or something like that. Don't you think so?" she asked Jakob, fixating her emerald eyes inquisitively upon him.

"Indeed I do," he answered her gravely, "and it doesn't really come as a surprise. The offensive we launched yesterday wasn't exactly inconspicuous, to say the least, and it's only natural that the enemy troops take precautions, lest they end up being the victims of yet another ambush. If I were the enemy commander, I'd most certainly make sure that there weren't any stragglers left behind, even if that meant… checking my own backyard, so to speak," Ghost explained, smiling sourly before focusing entirely on the matters at hand, keeping his voice to a tense whisper, "Now, I fully understand our dire predicament, and I think that I may have conceived a remedy to help us overcome this profound dilemma. You take up a sniping position here, while I stand ready to run. As soon as you neutralize the sniper, I'll break cover and see if I can deal with those three soldiers out there. As far as I can deduce, we have the element of surprise on our side if we choose to strike pre-emptively and eliminate their sniper. Does that seem feasible to you, Krystal?" he queried, wanting to know if his friend harboured any ill will towards his newly conceived stratagem.

However, Jakob was not forced to rethink his plan, for his suggestion was met with an affirmative answer from Krystal as she laid down on the ground, began to remove her camouflage-coloured and sleek Cornerian sniper rifle from its place on her back and adjust her position with the weapon, "Yes, it's quite feasible to me. You definitely have my vote, Ghost!" she said with a smile before asking him a question, which stemmed from a sudden thought she just had, "But what do I do about my scope? I don't want to be seen like that other sniper," she said as she pressed the butt of the rifle to her shoulder and calibrated the scope with her free paw.

"Hmm… You know, it's not exactly me you should ask about that. I don't consider myself an expert on matters involving sniping. I'm quite a lousy long-distance shot, as you're probably well aware," Jakob said self-deprecatingly as he crouched down behind the foliage leading out to the clearing and tensed all of his muscles in preparation for the imminent strike, "Try and keep it hidden; that's my best advice to you. Don't move too far out of the bush," he instructed, before drawing one of his blasters and looking at it wonderingly, as if the fact that he now stood with one of his signature weapons in his hand at the brink of a battle unlocked an insight into mysterious revelations.

"I wonder…" he mumbled contemplatively as he continued to stare at his blaster, becoming ensnared in reflection, "… if this was what our subconscious tried to tell us when we sensed that eldritch feeling back in the clearing with the lava, Krys. As we came to relax, we both felt uneasy. Quite a paradox now that you think about it", he chuckled," but that was definitely how it was. We felt as if something in the natural environment had been altered. That mysterious silence… It mightn't be too farfetched to surmise that we both had a distinct precognition about this fight transpiring, about the enemy being on the hunt for us. And now, what was once impulse has solidified into mortal peril. It all comes down to this…"

Ghost abruptly ended his mumbled, philosophical monologue as he saw the blurry shapes of the alien soldiers through the foliage, still being far away but coming ever closer to their hiding place. With the greatest effort to remain silent, not offering the slightest thought as to what Krystal thought of his estimation about precognition, the young human reached for his second blaster and drew it slowly from its holster, so that he now brandished both of his chrome-coated primary weapons, gripping them tightly in his gloved hands. He did not bother with using his SMGs, which sat in their holsters around his legs, for this encounter; the opponents were so few that his blasters were more than enough to take care of them. Then, he waited in barely restrained anxiety, listening for the dull discharge of energy from Krystal's rifle, which would tell him when to spring into action.

Krystal also kept up a steady focus and a mind in equilibrium as she let the luminescent red crosshairs of her scope sweep across the viridian, leafy top of the large tree some distance away. She awaited the moment when the hostile sniper would make his fatal mistake yet again; when he would unknowingly reveal that telltale glint of the sun, which would tell her exactly where to shoot in order to get to her prey. The furred finger of the cerulean vixen curled expectantly around the trigger of the rifle, resting against that cool metal object, which only needed to be squeezed ever so lightly in order to unleash death in a concentrated form. The tension in the air around her was almost palpable; it was as if everything had assumed a state of stasis, waiting for Krystal to break the spell by firing her rifle.

While lying there and trying to maintain her focus, the young Cerinian discovered – much to her horror – that it was surprisingly difficult to keep her finger in its tense state on the trigger and avoiding that it slipped. An accidental shot, Krystal knew, would lead to their immediate discovery and elimination; not exactly the optimal ending for such a mission. In her mind, the young vixen was almost about to contemplate how dying would be, when she was instantaneously jolted from her all-consuming reverie by the appearance of the characteristic glint in the treetop. The enemy sniper had accidentally let his presence become known yet again. Swiftly aligning her crosshairs with that exact spot in one fluid motion, Krystal held her breath for the shortest of moments to stabilize her aim while pulling the trigger with a sense of jubilant finality.

A ruby-red beam burst forth from the barrel of the weapon with an almost pounding noise because of the large expenditure of energy, which was connected with the shot. The ominous harbinger of death sailed through the air in the space of a heartbeat, aimed directly at the top of the tree, before striking its target unerringly. For the enemy sniper sitting on the branch in the tree, his death was colourful, but not entirely a demise composed purely of painless splendour. The beam from Krystal's rifle struck precisely into his scope and melted its way through the thin and frail glass, and the last conscious thoughts and sensations, which registered in the sniper's brain, were glowing waves of crimson combined with an intense heat and excruciating pain as the melted glass began to fuse with his ruptured eyeball, whilst the beam from the rifle continued on into his brain, frying it instantly with deadly effect. The whole process was swift, seeing as Krystal had barely realized that she had fired her weapon before the sniper was irrevocably lost in the empty void of death.

As the sniper fell limply from his position in the tree, noisily colliding with some of the branches on the way down before smashing to the ground with a sickening wet _crack_, the alien soldiers approaching Jakob and Krystal's position turned around on the spot, looking back towards the tree to see what had just happened. This distraction proved to be sufficient enough for Ghost to initiate his surprise rush on the small squad. Bursting noisily and abruptly from the cover of the dense shrubbery, Jakob sped out into the middle of the clearing, being afforded some partial cover from his flowing trenchcoat, which made his figure less discernible amongst the similarly blurry interior of the jungle. As he reached the beginning of the pillar-like structure of trees, through which he had a clear line of sight to the enemy at the other end, he smoothly raised his blasters to eye level, instinctively sighting down the length of the chrome-coated weapons and aligning them with the heads of two of his chosen adversaries, before he opened fire in mid-run. With a most notable and characteristic precision, Ghost squeezed the trigger of each blaster three times in rapid succession, unleashing six blaster-projectiles of pure, unfiltered energy at the heads of the two soldiers.

Although the shots were fired in mid-run, Jakob's accuracy proved to be commendable as the incandescent bolts of energy flew through the air and hit the aliens squarely in the head. The impacts of such energized shots were more than enough to instantly smash their skulls and incinerate their brains, and as the two soldiers crumbled lifelessly with faint moans of agony and smoke rising from their holed foreheads, the third soldier immediately realized where the threat was coming from. With a furious roar, he spun on his heel so that he turned towards Ghost's end of the trees, rage and bitterness contorting his purple-skinned visage, before unleashing a violent barrage of crimson beams from his automatic laser-rifle, just as the agile human swerved into cover behind one of the pillar-like trees, which was instantly riddled with holes when the rage-driven hail of lasers hit it.

Pressing his back tightly against his newly obtained cover, Jakob gritted his teeth and cursed lividly under his breath; an utterance which was completely inaudible over the din of war. He hated being pinned down, as was the case now, and all he could do was to make some utterly futile attempts at escaping. Whenever a short interruption of the shots occurred, during which the alien soldier probably re-aligned his weapon, Ghost leaned out from behind his cover and unleashed a suppressive hail of white energy-bolts from his blasters, firing blindly in an effort to at least wound his opponent. However, these efforts proved to be nothing more than desperate attempts at keeping the inevitable storm of energy at bay, for as soon as he ducked back behind cover, the ferocious bombardment of his position resumed, each time with seemingly greater fury behind the pelting rain of laser-beams.

Jakob had no way of estimating how long this stalemate would last, and he was just beginning to fear for the sturdiness of his cover and the energy available in the cells in his weapons, when he was jolted from this dismal thinking by the sudden sound of a heavily energized laser shot, followed by the ceasing of the seemingly incessant fire from the alien's rifle and a loud, shrill cry of agony. Quickly spinning out of cover and aiming his blasters down the row of trees, Ghost warily observed the scenario before him. The alien soldier had fallen prone, dropping his weapon in the process, and was now clutching a large wound in his abdomen, moaning in intense pain. Looking to the possible source of the shot that had wounded the alien so fatally, back to his former hiding place in the bush, the commander spotted Krystal emerging from behind the dense foliage, her sniper rifle pointed at the now downed soldier. As she spotted Jakob peeking out from behind his cover, the cerulean vixen gave a merry smile and a wave of her hand, indicating that he could come out safely. The place was clear; thanks to her quick reaction with the rifle, the threat was now neutralized.

Happily putting one of his blasters back in its holster, Ghost wiped the sweat of anxiety from his brow with the back of his free left hand, before sauntering slowly towards Krystal, a wide smile of gratitude dominating his face and his trenchcoat billowing faintly behind him in the vague breeze, which was filled with the sharp odour of ozone from the recent shootout, "I see you're quite proficient with that sniper rifle after all, Krystal! I wonder why it's taken so long for the Star Fox Team to realize your potential as a sniper rather than a telepath. Thanks a lot for the save, Krys!" he complimented her affectionately, receiving a warm smile of mutual affection in return from the young Cerinian, before he turned his attention to the wounded and trembling alien soldier on the ground, training his remaining blaster at the head of the defenceless trooper.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Jakob said in an undoubtedly inimical tone as he swiftly disposed of the alien's weapon by sweeping it into the thick undergrowth with his booted foot, "A pathetic excuse for a soldier, eh? It's excellent that you managed to keep him alive, Krystal", he said to his friend, his eyes not straying in the least from the terrified gaze of his former opponent as he did so, "because he'll hopefully be good for some information… if he wants to live, that is. So, tell me something useful and I just might let you live!" he said equably to the alien, his gaze assuming the infamous glacial nature, which came over his eyes whenever he was deadly serious about killing something.

As much as she adored Ghost's valour, determination and willingness to protect her in the middle of combat, Krystal always found him quite frightening when he took on this unforgiving demeanour in front of their enemies. Trying to remind him that Mikki was still out there in the jungle and in need of their help, she addressed her friend pleadingly, "Ghost, don't think about it. Just leave him there and let's go!" she insisted strongly, stepping closer to him to seize his arm and drag him along. However, he effectively disrupted this attempt of hers by holding out his arm in a sudden defiant motion, causing Krystal to stop in her tracks.

"I'm well aware of our comrade's dire peril, my friend," he stated coolly, looking over his shoulder at Krystal, "However, if I just leave this guy here and don't do anything about it, Shield's peril will most certainly increase tenfold as this pathetic wretch calls for backup. We can't have that," Jakob concluded coldly before speaking to the alien again, "Now, what information do you have, which you believe is valuable enough for me to spare your life? Are there more squads like yours out there, and where? How heavily guarded is your main base, from which you undoubtedly hail? Any offensive or defensive mechanisms that we should know about if we want to get in successfully?"

In reply to this volley of questions regarding many sensitive points in the plans of the aliens and the structure of their base, the soldier merely looked at Jakob with a gaze, which radiated pure scorn and hate, before opening his mouth and talking to the commander through the excruciating pain, "I'll never tell you… outsider!" he said contemptuously in a quavering and wheezing voice, "After all this, do you really think… that I'll spoil this moment for my comrades in arms? Of course not… they'll lie in wait for you… they'll claim your life before you know what hit you… and…" he paused, staring maniacally at Krystal with a cruel smile lining his lips, "… who knows what they'll do to your… beautiful companion there?" he asked threateningly, laughing hoarsely for some time, before abruptly stopping as he began to cough blood through his mouth, contorting his purple-skinned face with a grimace of agony.

Ghost did not even notice how paralyzed with fear Krystal had become from hearing the sinister threat from the alien; he only focused on the dying, despicable creature and the fact that he had not been given any useful information at all… not to mention the fact that the soldier had just threatened Krystal in a most horrible way. Narrowing his eyes decisively, the callous glint within them becoming even more profound, Jakob mumbled coldly to the alien before him, "Very well, then. You've had your chance, and you chose to waste it on petty insults and hollow threats against me and my friend. Don't ask me to forgive you now, because I certainly can't… If you choose death, then so be it," he said dispassionately with finality resounding in his voice as he raised his chrome-coated blaster which glinted in the sun, took aim and pulled the trigger twice, sending two consecutive shots into the forehead of the alien with bright flashes preceding each discharge of energy. The soldier jerked spasmodically as the bolts of energy slammed into his forehead and burned their way through his skull, but a few moments afterwards, he was lying perfectly still on the ground, a thin line of smoke rising from his blackened head. His blue eyes stared intensively into the sky, but they saw nothing, coated as they were by the glassy veil of death.

Feeling his silent fury dissipate upon the death of their enemy, Ghost quickly checked the quantity of energy in both of his blasters and – upon realizing that there was only two thirds of the original energy left, indicated by the small glowing gauges on the sides of his weapons – stuck them back into their holsters irritably. As this was done, he was surprised to hear a depressed sniff behind him, and as he turned around cautiously, he saw the source of the sound. Krystal had retreated further away to lean against a tree, her wide, emerald eyes seeming uncomprehending as she stared into the jungle, an expression of mingled shock and grief plain on her furred visage. As Jakob walked towards her, he noticed her shivering because of sheer emotional discomfort, and his entire demeanour abruptly changed from being beset by anger to radiating immense solicitude on behalf of his Cerinian friend.

"So it's really… true, then," Krystal managed to whisper in between her gasping breaths, recalling Cain's betrayal a day before and the fact that he had attempted to force her to land on the planet, which only added further to her lamentation. "They're specifically targeting me. I thought it was just Cain's wicked idea, but it's apparently been their objective all along: To get hold of me. I may be able to defend myself against a few persons, but I can't do a thing against an entire army!" she shouted desperately, overcome with fright because of the undeniable iniquity of her newly revealed situation.

In response, Ghost simply reached forward and placed a caring hand on her shoulder, "I think you're omitting a very crucial factor from this equation, Krystal," he said slowly and sincerely, managing to catch her emerald eyes with his own gaze as he continued to speak with unsurpassed sobriety, "You are not alone in this. Look at me! I stand before you, right here, in flesh and blood, not a ghost as is otherwise my common sobriquet. I'm not just a hopeful illusion, and I'm definitely not about to give up the fight just because some delusional alien has gotten it into his twisted mind that he needs you for whatever reason it might be. That only gives me the strength and resolve to fight on, along with the thought of your imminent wedding at some point in the future," he conceded amiably, throwing a glance at Krystal's exquisite ring, "If those aliens as much as look at you with the intent of seizing you for their own, they'll have to come through me first… and as you're probably well aware, I have two blasters, two SMGs, my knife and my life to shield you with! Oh, I'd like to see them try!" he explained fervently, before seeming to remember something else.

"Speaking of "shielding" someone, it's not only me those aliens have to worry about. It's the entire Team G-Wing, and Shield and Saber are at least as competent as me in military matters… if not even better!" Jakob said with a smile, before stepping a bit away from Krystal to let her stomach all that, "Now, regarding Shield, I think we'd better get moving. It seems that he's still having some trouble," he observed, as the muffled booming sound of Mikki's Lylatian Gatling-gun was yet again audible through the trees.

For the shortest of moments, the cerulean vixen closed her eyes and took a couple of calming deep breaths, before she opened her eyes again and fixed her emerald irises on Ghost, "Thank you for reassuring me when I needed it the most, my friend. Thank you for calming my soul like no-one else could have done," she whispered in heartfelt admiration of his efforts as she moved forwards and grabbed his gloved hand in a gesture of affection, giving it a friendly squeeze. This unexpected manoeuvre initially caused the human commander to flinch, before he smiled at her abrupt display of emotions and patted her compassionately on the shoulder in return.

The exchange of mutual affection did not last for long, though, as Krystal soon looked towards the source of the noise from Mikki's weapon, "Now, let's go and help Shield! I think he needs it!" she said staunchly, her voice ringing with an incredible and audible determination, which was almost inconceivable if one had witnessed her sorrowful demeanour just seconds before. It seemed that by hearing Jakob's words, she had finally been freed of the overwhelming worries about the situation, and the impulsive way of thanking her friend was her way of purging the last sorrow from her body and accept her current fate. With a swift flick of her heel, Krystal was striding resolutely towards Shield's assumed position, her rifle at the ready.

Happily acknowledging the fact that his words had again managed to clear the cerulean vixen's mind of all-consuming sorrow, Ghost followed her with notable celerity, intent on not letting his friend leave his sight again. As they walked, hr suddenly remembered a person, whom Krystal had mentioned as she was seized by deadly angst just before, but whom Jakob had not met yet, at least not in a situation where he would remember him clearly, "So, who's that Cain-fellow you talked about before? He must be an undoubtedly wicked individual, if he has a part to play in this shocking conflict," he said curiously, wanting to know if there were any more unsolved problems of agony that troubled her in connection with this particular individual.

With resentment showing noticeably in her voice, Krystal told him bitterly about Cain, her misplaced trust in him and how he had ultimately turned out to be an accomplice of the aliens they were fighting now. Also, the young Cerinian did not hesitate to include that it was Cain who had been smashed away from her by Ghost's swift intervention in the Arwing during the space battle against the aliens. When she was done talking, hatred burned within the commander once again.

---

Mikki was pinned down and outnumbered. Such were the incontrovertible facts.

Locked in a never-ending stalemate between him and the surviving three aliens, his valiant efforts and seemingly inextinguishable motivation to win had not really aided him greatly in obtaining the victory against the sweeper team, which he had so longingly hoped for. Crouching yet again behind his cover, seeking shelter from the vicious barrage of ruby-tinted laser-beams from the alien laser-rifles, Shield admired their virtually undying tenacity and the dedication, with which they committed themselves to his eradication. However, such harsh conditions in battle only increased his willingness to fight back, to prove his valour and mettle even if there was not a single ally to see it. He possessed enough physical perseverance to not crumble under these kinds of odds, and it would be a cold day in Hell before three alien soldiers would manage to douse his ardently glowing fighting spirit.

Thusly invigorated and bolstered morally, the thoughts of confidence resounding in his head, Mikki swung up again from cover during a brief period of quietude when the enemy had to reload their rifles, aiming his massive Lylatian Gatling-gun at the places in the dense foliage from which the fierce barrages had presumably originated. Since he had so excellently reinforced his mental acuity before, he felt it as if the beneficial qualities of such a sharpening were transferred to his visual acuity as well. As a result of this, Shield most definitely thought that he could see extremely minute movements within the foliage as the aliens moved around to regroup on either side of him, doubtless intending to flank him. Not wanting to let that happen, the devoted human sergeant utilized the only feasible tactic, which his mind could think of.

With an immensely blood-curdling roar of aggression, Mikki squeezed the trigger of his Gatling-gun with all his might, releasing a virtual cascade of azure plasma-bolts from his huge cobalt-blue weapon with a droning, buzzing sound like that of thunder rolling across the sky. The high-powered projectiles smashed through the foliage with ease, burning the entangling plants away as if they were merely enlarged cobwebs, and as Shield continued his merciless bombardment across the entire foliage-covered periphery of the clearing, his strategy yielded good results. Two times, he was certain that he heard gurgling cries of pain over the din of his own weapon, and also bodies collapsing instantaneously in the wild energized hail of plasma-bolts. When he felt satisfied with his own work, the human sergeant ended his violent onslaught, released his finger from the trigger and slumped down behind his partially destroyed cover again, which had proved to be much more resilient than he had estimated it to be at first glance. As he sat down, he was careful not to accidentally touch the large energy cell of his weapon, since he knew that it would be scorching, due to the extreme amount of energy, which had just been unleashed in one setting.

Thoroughly enjoying the stillness, which came after such a display of weapon-strength, Mikki savoured the smell of newly discharged ozone in the air. It was a smell, which always hung over the battlefield of a recently ended war, and as much as he loved being able to show his skills in war, as much did he enjoy the aftermath, where one could truly relax after an exhausting conflict and let one's strained ears attune themselves to silence once again, feeling fully weary of battle. As he sat there behind the rocks, feeling the warmth of the sun almost rejuvenate him, Shield could not keep a satisfied smile from playing across his placid features as he reminisced, thinking about the battle, which had just transpired. Even in spite of overwhelming odds, the aliens outnumbering him six to one, he had pulled through with commendable skill and merit. He had effectively eliminated three of them as he got the chance, before they had the time to retreat to cover. From there, an almost endless shootout had begun, but in the end, Mikki had emerged victorious, taking out the remaining two aliens…

Suddenly, as this thought struck him, Shield awoke from this slightly complacent reverie with a jolt. That only amounted to five… and he was sure that the team had consisted of six soldiers to begin with. However, in spite of this lucid moment, it was too late for him to react when the moment came unexpectedly.

From somewhere to his left, the firing of a laser-rifle was abruptly heard, and the next thing he knew, a crimson laser blast had singed the skin on Mikki's bare lower left arm just below the short sleeve of his shirt, not enough to fatally wound him, but enough to make him experience a burning sensation throughout his arm, as the outermost layer of skin was peeled away by the concentrated energy on the little spot it had struck. Not being prepared for this sudden attack, Shield could not help crying out in a most profound agony and dropping his Gatling-gun, and as he clutched a hand around the thumping wound, which much resembled an ordinary accidental burn, he saw his assailant step forth from the cover of the foliage right next to him on his left side. It was the leader of the alien sweeper team, who had managed to escape to cover without being hurt; however, it seemed that the cover had not been as effective as he had initially hoped for, for there were several large wounds on his face and tears in his camouflage-outfit, no doubt due to Shield's gallant fighting. His face was as placid as could be, but the eyes – which are said to be the mirror of the soul – burned with the incinerating flame of murder.

"I actually meant to make that a lethal shot, alien," he rasped hoarsely, "However, my aim is apparently not what it used to be. Still, now that I've effectively disarmed you, I have all the time I need to make sure that you don't pester our world again!" he sneered condescendingly, raising his automatic laser-rifle to take aim. Mikki stared at him defiantly, wanting to see death coming, now that there was seemingly no escape. However, what he saw was not a well-aimed laser-blast, which extinguished the intensely burning flame of his life. Instead, his eyes widened in considerable surprise as an arm clad in black leather clasped itself forcefully and swiftly around the neck of the alien soldier from behind. As the trooper dropped his weapon in surprise and started to gag violently, a hand encased in a black leather glove, belonging to the other arm of the mysterious attacker, quickly clamped itself tightly around his mouth and jaw, holding it in a firm grip. The assassin suddenly made a quick, powerful movement with both arms and hands, each pulling head and neck in a different direction, and the result was horrifying. The alien soldier's neck snapped with a disgusting wet and cracking sound of bones and tendons being brutally severed, and with a faint gurgle, the trooper fell limply to the ground, his head protruding from his neck in a completely wrong angle.

Stunned at the appearance of a stealthy saviour, the human sergeant just stared with the utmost bewilderment at the person, who now appeared from the bushes. As the figure gradually became clearer as he stepped more and more out of concealment, Mikki began sporting a wide smile of joy on his lips. He only knew one person who was dressed like that, and who could sneak as silently as he had just demonstrated without being heard, quite literally moving like a ghost whenever he intended to strike swiftly and fatally, for instance by breaking the neck of his target as he had just done – a personal favourite sneak attack of his, Shield knew.

"I do hate to be a party-crasher, Shield, but I was under the distinct impression that this guy didn't exactly want to dance with you!" Ghost said jokingly with his characteristic accent, brushing his hands and grinning wryly as he emerged from the dense foliage around the clearing. As Jakob had come out completely and went to stand by Mikki's side, Krystal stepped out of the foliage as well, not many paces behind Ghost, smiling widely and giving a jubilant shout as she spotted Shield; a valiant ally, whom she had missed a great deal during her and Jakob's perilous journey through the jungle.

"Ghost!" Mikki roared wildly, completely forgetting about the pain from his wound as he sprang to his feet and ran to his friend, giving him an exhilarated high five and a pair of thumping pats on the back, which caused the commander to cough slightly, "Damn it, man, where the hell have you been?! Krystal!" he shouted almost immediately as he spotted the cerulean vixen, before running to her and throwing his arm around her shoulders in a friendly greeting, while she patted him softly on his vest-covered back as he dragged her with him to the now partially pulverized barrier of rocks. As they all stood by the natural fortification, Shield pointed proudly at it and sported a grin on his face.

"You won't believe what this thing has witnessed or what it has protected me from!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, but his effervescence dissipated quickly when he saw Jakob's face assume a stern and glum expression as the commander let his eyes sweep across the clearing, glowering balefully at the shot-up bodies strewn about on the ground with something that looked like distinct and utter loathing, born from painful recognition.

"I'm sure I won't believe it, but still, I dare hazard a guess: A team consisting of approximately four or five alien soldiers outfitted with camouflage-equipment and armed with high-velocity automatic laser-rifles, who were fanatically intent on killing you, just like the ones that located Krystal and I?" he queried with a mock tone of innocence in his voice, as if he had just pulled the description of the sweeper team straight out of nothingness. As Ghost had expected, this ironic response elicited a bemused expression from Mikki, who had not imagined that his friend could have endured an intermezzo with exactly the same foes. Still, a little thing in Jakob's response seemed erroneously estimated to Shield, who did not hesitate to notify him about it.

"Actually, there were six of them; just so you know it," the sergeant corrected, hardly covering up his pride at having single-handedly defeated so many enemies, before the shocked expression from before came upon his face once again, "But then, if you guys have met these alien psychos, too, then that must mean…"

"… that the enemy has somehow become aware of our presence here and has set out to eliminate us to reduce the threat of an attack directly on his main base," Ghost finished his reasoning for him. However, he was quite bewildered as he saw Mikki shaking his head strongly before he spoke up in reply.

"No, that wasn't what I meant, although that's as true as it gets!" Shield said with the slightest hint of a grin flitting across his face as he bent down towards the ground to retrieve his weapons and place them on his person, "What I meant was that if both this squad and the one you met seemed to know exactly where we were, then Saber could be in extreme danger as well! We haven't heard from him all day. I have his position marked on the satellite uplink, and he hasn't moved as much as an inch. Either he's just sleeping really soundly, or else he's… Well, let's not think about that now," the sergeant said, shivering slightly with emotional discomfort as he had placed his rocket launcher on his back and the Gatling-gun at his side yet again. The thought of their brave friend and ally having left this world by way of a laser through the head was apparently very uncomfortable to even the sturdy sergeant.

"I don't want to think about that egregious possibility, either," Jakob said firmly, wanting the team to try and conceive a viable plan in order to get to John in time before the enemy found him, "Therefore, the only way we can confirm his condition is by finding him. Fortunately, his position isn't that far away, so we should be able to arrive there pretty quickly. Let's move to his position and see what needs to be done. If he's cornered by the enemy – which seems quite likely according to what you've suggested, Shield – we just might get there in time to help him out… assuming, of course, that they haven't… disposed of him yet," he concluded grimly, cringing as he used such a truly harsh term about one of their own.

Mikki nodded and lead the way after casting a glance on the satellite uplink he carried around his wrist. As he began to walk, the pain in his wound from the alien laser-rifle suddenly began to show again, flaring up sharply and angrily through his arm with the same paralyzing effect as a surge of suddenly injected venom. This understandably caused him to moan in agony and grab his arm tightly, and this behaviour was immediately noticed by Krystal, who served as a rearguard and kept a watchful eye on the group as well as their surroundings while they moved away from the clearing and into unknown territory, leaving behind the residue of Shield's valiant efforts. Casting a concerned glance at the sergeant's dolorous demeanour, the cerulean vixen quickly ran along the side of the group until she reached Mikki.

"Hey Krystal!" he said in a strained voice, trying to smile through gritted teeth and more or less excruciating pain. However, he immediately fell silent upon seeing the extraordinarily sharp look that Krystal shot him. What could have imbued her with such a sudden sincerity, he did not know, but his musings were answered as she addressed him right away.

"Let me see that arm of yours. Now!" she said authoritatively, fixating her gaze at his wounded arm. Not wanting to oppose the young Cerinian or possibly anger her when she was in such a seemingly commanding mood as this, Shield stuck out his arm for her to grasp and examine scrupulously, and when her searching eyes reached the wound, they went wide with considerable worry. At the same time, Krystal let her anxiety and concern shine through in one distraught exclamation, "Oh my, Shield… you're hurt! Were you just planning to keep quiet about it and not tell us? You know perfectly well that I can't stand people suffering in silence. Why didn't you tell us?!" she almost yelled, taken aback by the – to her – horrible fact that the sergeant was apparently planning to go around with an untreated wound, even though his allies could have helped him overcome the pain.

"Hey, just relax, Krystal! Seriously, it's nothing to really worry about," Mikki said reassuringly, although the cerulean vixen had already begun rummaging through the various pouches in her belt, finding a roll of bandages which she began to wrap tightly around the wound, "Actually, I was going to treat it when we had found Saber, but if you insist on doing it for me, thanks a lot! It's only a scratch, you know, but it's cool of you to do it, anyway!" he said appreciatively as Krystal finished laying the bandages, gave him a reassuring pat on the arm and returned to her post at the rear, where she continued to keep a steady vigil with her keen senses.

"_Hmm… perhaps__ that wasn't such a bad idea, after all!"_ Shield thought contently as he looked at the bandage around his arm. The pain in the wound had already begun to lessen and become more tolerable, but that was not why the sergeant suddenly held his new-made bandage in such high esteem. For him, it was more a question of charisma, which he proved to himself with his next morale-raising thought, _"Now I can ask Saber who's really shedding some blood for our cause!"_

---

"Stand up, alien! Now!"

The brusque and harshly spoken command was not John's idea of a gentle awakening; nor was the brutal punch across the face, which was done with the butt of a rifle and followed a heartbeat later. It felt as if his brain were violently tossed around inside his head while his skull had split itself open at the force of the punch, blood now pulsing from his head at regular intervals; so intense was the pain from the punch upon a waking mind. Moaning loudly and audibly in agony, his world sent reeling because of the sudden blow to his head, Saber slowly raised himself to his feet and stood wobbly in the centre of the clearing in which he had chosen to sleep the day before, trying to regain his orientation and composure.

At first, the world seemed an insane blur due to the disturbance of his senses that had come from the vicious attack and the fog of the pain, which clouded his mind. Swirls of green and brown meshed with a blinding yellow and the faintest streak of purple and cerulean, creating a psychedelic and surreal impression of the world around him. As the pain slowly disappeared from his pounding head and his senses regained control of his mind, the image gradually resolved itself into a surprisingly sharp depiction of the lush jungle on the alien planet, trees standing all around him in a slightly circular structure, spreading their verdant tops towards the cerulean sky overhead from which the sun shone like a magnificent fire opal. In a blinding flash of deja-vu, John remembered having infiltrated this jungle with the Cornerian marines, who got massacred before his eyes. He also recalled choosing this position as a camp on Pepper's orders, which also stated that he was to regroup with G-Wing in order to make a plan that would help them conquer and destroy the alien HQ on this planet.

As Saber thought this particular thought, relief surged through him for an instant as he fixed his still slightly blurry gaze upon the figures, which stood warily around him. Due to the continued struggle between his senses and the pain in his head, John was neither able to distinguish the figures clearly from one another, nor to see any details at all, and therefore assumed that it was his companions, who had come to retrieve him and commence their planned assault upon the alien HQ. With a somewhat mad smile forming on his gaunt face, the lieutenant began to walk casually, albeit unsteadily, towards the assembled individuals before him, "So, you decided to come and get me, eh guys? Are you ready for some serious shootouts?" he grinned wryly, but unfortunately for him, the individuals before him were absolutely not the trusted people of his team.

"You're delirious, alien! Get away from me!" one of the figures snarled hatefully, and the next thing he knew, Saber had all the wind promptly knocked out of him as he received a vengeful blow to his solar plexus, which caused him to crumple up on the ground in pain, gasping noisily for air and clutching his stomach in agony. Oddly enough, it seemed that this sudden infliction of a considerable amount of pain was what was required to clear his head. In the intolerably bright light of pain-induced clarity, John saw his surroundings without any distorting veil or blur in his vision, and could thus also see the figures with him as they really were. As he laid eyes on them, it immediately became clear to him what a big mistake he had just made in thinking that these were his team-mates, who had come to find him and regroup.

In the clearing with him were three abnormally dangly humanoid alien troopers, fully decked out in jungle camouflage-gear and with their automatic laser-rifles pointed squarely at his head. Their long faces with the purplish skin bore clear expressions of reproach and disgust as they looked menacingly at Saber thrashing around on the ground in agony. However, one might also find a certain complacency in their way of watching the pain that they had so knowingly caused the human "outsider". As he twisted his neck around with an audible groan to look through the trees of the clearing, John managed to spot two more alien soldiers with exactly the same equipment, who stared at him through the line of trees surrounding the clearing.

Seeing as he had been caught absolutely flat-footed by the intrusion of the aliens during his profound sleep, the human lieutenant had not had the ghost of a chance to get to his weapons and defend himself properly. The irony in the current situation was that he could easily feel his custom-made blaster in its holster at his side, and he needed only turn his head a little to the left as he lay on the ground to see his trusty sword Ragetooth in its dark-red leather sheath right next to him, the ruby-red cloth on the hilt of the enchanted katana wavering faintly in the wind. Both weapons were so close, and yet so tantalizingly out of reach; he could not perform even the most discreet attempt at getting to either of his arms, since at least one of the aliens would notice his intent if he did so, and if only one of these heavily armed and armoured sweeper troops noticed any attempt at opposition, Saber knew that it would mean his demise.

As he turned his head to look at Ragetooth, one of the three aliens in the clearing noticed the movement of his head and the direction of his gaze. Puzzled by the strange object lying next to their captive, he slowly wandered over to John and his weapon, keeping his rifle trained on the human lieutenant, "And what's this, then?" he mumbled wonderingly as he reached Ragetooh, prodding the sheathed sword carefully with his booted foot, as if he were afraid that the unknown item would unexpectedly jump up and attack him, "A weapon of sorts… or merely a fancy walking stick that you use when you saunter around in our territory, alien?" he asked John threateningly, turning to face him fully.

Displaying a most commendable sense of phlegm, even when utterly outnumbered and faced by a heavily armed alien, Saber kept his composure and allowed himself to smile a slightly provocative smile at his assailant, now that the last of the pain from the punches had subsided and he had gained control of his breath again, "I'll tell you what it is if you really want to know," he answered slowly and determinedly, allowing all his thoughts of worry to recede and his usual devil-may-care self to take control of his mind-set. Thus bolstered in his demeanour, he continued with unbridled vehemence seething in his voice and his grey eyes glinting callously, "It's the thing, which I'll use to skewer you through the stomach… that is, of course, before I slit your throat with it!" John concluded furiously, earning himself yet another forceful blow to the head from the butt of the soldier's rifle. In actuality, the human lieutenant had conceived no such daring plan; he just wanted to provoke these aliens as much as he could if this was to be his end anyway, and not act precipitously in order not to die prematurely… or at least earlier than he absolutely had to.

Wanting to study this provocative captive of theirs a bit closer, the alien soldier bent down to grab one of the edges of Saber's dusty-green vest, which sat on top of his black shirt and the grey-black, tightly fitting special fabric uniform, which he wore underneath, "Hmm… You're really not much of a sight, are you?" the trooper remarked disparagingly as he looked over the scrawny human dressed in his dully coloured uniform, shirt, vest, grey pants and black military boots, not to exclude the cap with the Kamikaze-sign still sitting proudly on top of his head, "Therefore, I don't think that it'll matter a great deal if we just dispose of you right now. After all, you're not the person we desire," the soldier said with finality before preparing to stand.

Before he had the chance to even lift himself an inch from the squatting position in which he was sitting, though, a lot of things happened at once and with devastating results.

From somewhere in the jungle, which surrounded the clearing, there was the sound of a potent energy-based weapon being discharged, firing a single shot. Mere milliseconds afterwards, a bright red laser-beam came streaking through a gap in the trees, following an unerring trajectory, before hammering forcefully into the back of the head of one of the two soldiers who stood outside the clearing containing John and the three other alien troopers. The soldier's head moved forwards with an odd jerk, driven by the force of the impact, and as he dropped his weapon and fell forwards with only a slight wheeze, smoke and sparks erupting from the back of his blackened head, his companion instinctively turned on his heel and aimed his laser-rifle into the jungle, looking for the unseen attacker. However, the sniper was too effectively hidden within the dense foliage of the jungle, and it quickly dawned on the alien soldier in a last, lucid moment that turning around would prove to be the greatest mistake he had ever made.

Leaning nonchalantly against a tree in the outskirts of the jungle around the clearing, Jakob had been watching the passing of events up until now, waiting for Krystal to kill the first guard on the perimeter from hiding and hoping that the other guard would turn around to look for the sniper. Hopefully, the shock of finding someone standing there unexpectedly would stun the other soldier for as much time as Ghost needed to strike. Fortunately enough, their stratagem worked, it seemed, for as he turned around and discovered the young human standing as a blurry, insubstantial figure against the viridian backdrop of the jungle, clad in a flowing trenchcoat and armed with a blaster, which glinted in the sun, the alien trooper was promptly stupefied with shock for just as much time as it took Jakob to smile a thin apologetic smile, raise his blaster to eye-level with a practised flick of the wrist and fire rapidly. Three incandescent energy-bolts flashed from his weapon and struck the alien trooper squarely and consecutively in the head, making the weapon fly out of his hands and sending him toppling backwards into the grass with some strange limp motions and a shrill scream of pain.

Hearing their comrade's distress, the two soldiers in the clearing, who were not actively studying John, spun around to the side of the clearing where Ghost was standing on the outside of the natural bulwark of trees, raising their laser-rifles impulsively as they spotted a visible target, not caring about how many shots it took for them to shoot through the trees surrounding the clearing in order to get to their chosen target. However, before they had time to squeeze their triggers even the slightest amount, a loud thumping sound began to suddenly echo through the vast space of the jungle, originating somewhere behind them, and the next thing they knew, they were struck by a sundering hail of countless azure plasma-bolts, which cut forcefully into their flesh and literally ripped their bodies apart as they cried out in deadly angst, the plasma ensuring a painful demise as they slumped lifelessly to the ground, riddled with holes.

Taking advantage of the distraction and kill, which Jakob had provided, Mikki had remained hidden in the jungle with his Lylatian Gatling-gun at the ready, and had emerged to open fire as the two soldiers at the perimeter had been disposed of and the two within the clearing had spun around to face Ghost, turning their backs to Shield and providing him with an excellent chance for an ambush. Since his weapon was so prodigiously powerful, it was no problem for Mikki to shoot through the trees at the outskirts of the clearing, which otherwise protected it. These trees now stood as smoking stumps of their former selves, bereft of their stature by the pernicious energy, which the sergeant had just unleashed.

Evidently distracted and shocked a great deal by the extraordinarily swift, coordinated and merciless slaughter of his men, the last remaining member of the alien strike team – the one who had crouched next to Saber – looked across the clearing at the lifeless bodies of his men, a vacant and uncomprehending expression conquering his face as he took in the extent of the damage and the slowly approaching figures of Mikki, Jakob and Krystal, who were now emerging from the jungle. The astoundingly precise strike had not taken more than ten seconds at best, but he had already lost his entire team to an unknown enemy force, which he did not even know had infiltrated the planet. Judging from their slightly atypical weapons, he assumed that the captive beside him might also be a member of that team, but as he turned his head to consider his captive, he felt the immediate and excruciating pain of retribution in the form of John's clenched fist slamming forcefully into his face.

During the strike executed by his loyal friends of Team G-Wing, Saber had remained still, wanting to see how the situation would develop. However, he had not been entirely impassive, for as more and more of the alien soldiers were slain and the rate of shots fired increased dramatically, adrenaline also began flowing in his veins like an invigorating stream that sharpened his senses, coursing swiftly through his bloodstream like an inner panacea to the outer maladies, pain and injury, which he had endured since he woke up and found himself in the middle of this inferno. Being subjected to all of the punches and derogatory comments of the alien assailants had only resulted in his wrath building within him, and suddenly a most opportune moment had arisen for John to let out all of his frustrations on the very being who had caused them to begin with. As he looked at his abruptly distracted guard, Saber decided that it was now or never if he was going to make his move. He also decided to make the most of it and attacked with a punch to the soldier's face.

As John's fist collided with the head of the alien trooper, there was a loud unpleasant _crack_, much like the sound of bones shattering, and the soldier staggered backwards with an audible scream of agony, blinded by unimaginable pain and clutching his bleeding, broken nose with both hands. Knowing that his time to act had arrived, the lieutenant nimbly sprang to his feet from his position on the ground, grabbing Ragetooth in one hand as he swung back up on his feet. Turning around to face his opponent, Saber saw that the soldier was beginning to recuperate from the pain and look around for his laser-rifle, which he had dropped as the human hit him. Not wanting the alien to get even the slightest chance to humiliate him once again, John quickly drew the katana from its leather sheath with a practised swing born from arduously obtained skill, casting a glance at the crimson runes, which were etched into the steel that comprised the blade of Ragetooth. Their pulsing luminescence was most profound; they were glowing an undeniable blood-red colour, which meant that the weapon longed to strike down a much hated foe, namely the alien soldier in front of it, who had so savagely damaged its master. Silently agreeing with the semi-intelligence of his demon-crafted weapon, Saber turned on the alien trooper, who had now recuperated fully from the pain of his bleeding nose, and charged with a furious battle-cry, wielding his favourite weapon once again.

With an almost uncanny proficiency and celerity bestowed upon him by the obscure powers of Ragetooth, John plunged the enchanted blade violently through the soft stomach of his alien adversary, making the tip of the sword emerge through the back of his victim in a horrendous spray of blood because of the vicious thrust. As he felt himself being impaled upon a painful and sharp object, which had severed many of his internal organs, the soldier could not restrain a quavering scream of unendurable agony, before the keen steel was resolutely pulled from his body again and he collapsed feebly onto the ground, bleeding a virtual rivulet of blood from the hole in his stomach, which gave the surrounding grass an ugly rust-red colour.

As he weakly tried to pull himself to his feet, the gasping alien soldier was promptly hindered in this endeavour as he felt the razor-sharp point of Ragetooth coming to rest precisely below his chin. Slowly raising his head and letting his gaze wander along the rune-decorated blade, an expression of the utmost terror on his purple-skinned face, he soon found himself staring directly into the grey, unforgiving eyes of Saber, who held the enchanted sword directly below his chin. However, the blade did not rest there for long, for John only took the time to glare ferociously at his prey and mutter condescendingly to the alien, "See? I told you!" before drawing his arm back and letting the sharpened steel flash across the soldier's neck in a swift and vicious slice. A literal fountain of crimson blood immediately began to gush violently from the wound, and the alien tried to pronounce some words in his last fragment of life, but managed no more than a pained gurgle before he fell limply to the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming beneath him.

Feeling content about his newly refreshed melee fighting skills now that the threat of the aliens had been effectively dealt with, Saber began to clean his blade in the camouflage-outfit of his newly slain foe while humming softly to himself, his ire quickly disspiating. As he had wiped the last trace of blood away from Ragetooth, the dextrous lieutenant swung his weapon around a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of it in his hand and watching the blade shimmer in the slightly sinking sun, before nodding to himself with finality and putting the enchanted sword back into its sheath, which he had picked up from the ground and fastened on his back once again. Controlling one more time that Ragetooth was securely sheathed on his back and that his custom-made revolver-shaped blaster was still sitting in its leather holster at his side, John turned around with a wide smile lining his lips, ready to rejoin his friends after such a long absence from their company.

The first one to reach him after wading through the trees was Mikki, who immediately sported a huge grin upon seeing his sword-wielding friend again. Hurrying to Saber in the middle of the clearing, his heavy weapons rattling noisily about on his person, the sergeant quickly gave him an enthusiastic high five, as if to express his joy at being reunited, before holding up his bandaged arm for the lieutenant to see, "Hey Saber, it's great to see you're still good with your sword and all", he grinned wryly, "but who of us has really shed some blood for this? Yeah, you're right; that's me!" he exclaimed jubilantly, even though John had not uttered a word regarding his bandage. Still, the slightly complacent remark elicited a dismissive wave from Saber's hand along with a thin smile of appreciation.

As Shield proceeded to grab one of the dead alien troopers and drag him into the dense foliage and out of sight, so that their position would not be so easily compromised, Jakob entered the clearing along with Krystal, looking around with a satisfied smile on his face, evidently pleased with the outcome of their swift strike, twirling the blaster in his gloved right hand around his trigger finger a couple of times before putting it back in its holster, now that there were no more targets in sight.. John could not keep a beaming smile of rejoice from crossing his face as he saw that his good friend and commander had made it through the jungle unscathed, coming all the way to his position along with the others to rescue him. As such, the lieutenant felt the need to address him heartily, "Hey Ghost, great to see you again, man! That was some fancy shooting out there just before!" Saber complimented Jakob as he approached him, giving him a friendly pat on the back as they met. He distinctly remembered Ghost's gunplay in the face of the enemy opposition, and was pretty amazed by the devastating results it precipitated.

In return, the young human gave a cheerful smile before complimenting John just as kindly on his own fighting against the last alien in the clearing, "The same to you, Saber. That was some very talented swordsmanship just now! I know no-one with that special fluidity and grace in their fighting, which you possess. Heck, it was almost "Macbeth" all over again! _Disdaining fortune with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution_…" Jakob quoted enthusiastically, giving John an affectionate clap on the shoulder before going to Mikki in order to help him hide the bodies.

Looking bemusedly after the erudite commander, regarding him slightly with wonderment after he had suddenly quoted a line from "Macbeth" – although it was clearly meant as a compliment of the lieutenant's fighting style –, John did not notice Krystal walking up to him, and it was with a start that he reacted to the paw, which she put compassionately upon his arm to notify him of her presence, "Hello Saber, it's me, Krystal!" she greeted him with a grin on her vulpine visage, amused by his frightened reaction, before she continued with a note of sincerity in her melodious voice, "It's good to see that you haven't sustained any serious injuries, and I think it was lucky that we managed to find you when we did. We've been fighting our way through the jungle all day in an effort to regroup, and unfortunately, you were the last one we needed to get to. Luckily, we got here just in time, but what I just can't figure out is how you could let yourself be cornered like that? You're usually able to fight your way out of any situation," the cerulean vixen commented curiously, eyeing John in search of an explanation.

"Yeah, well…" Saber began shamefully, before choosing to simply state the truth, "I was sleeping; that's why. That's why they cornered me so easily. I know I'm supposed to be vigilant and all that, especially in the middle of enemy territory and with our planned attack on the enemy base, but I was tired, alright?" he said, smiling sheepishly as Krystal shot him an admonishing look from her emerald eyes. Before she could scold him any further for his grave mistake of unawareness, John fixed his eyes on Ghost and Shield as they continued to move the bodies away from the clearing.

"Say, what are those two doing?" he mumbled wonderingly as he considered the very thorough process they employed in completing their endeavour. They went far off into the jungle to hide the bodies as effectively as they could. The fact that they covered every body meticulously with fallen foliage and whatever else that could be found, only added verisimilitude to Saber's contention that they were trying to make their presence as inconspicuous as possible. As Krystal suddenly slumped down on the grass in the clearing and began to remove her weapons from her person, almost as if she had reached the comforts of her own room on the Great Fox, John was understandably alarmed by the sudden state of reduced vigilance, which was exhibited by his team, even in spite of their recent skirmish with the aliens.

Feeling a need to vent his nagging worries about their current project, Saber raised his voice as he looked enquiringly at Jakob and Mikki, who just appeared from the jungle after having disposed of the last of the bodies, "Okay guys, would you just tell me what the heck is going on here? Why are you moving the bodies all of a sudden… to minimize the risk of us being discovered? Are we going to make this place our temporary head-quarters or what?" he queried demandingly as he looked at his companions.

Within minutes, the lieutenant had his assumption positively affirmed.

---

"Alright, guys, let's go over the intel we've managed to acquire until now," Ghost said determinedly, his British accent shining through audibly as he stood up and began to pace slowly back and forth in front of Shield, Saber and Krystal, who were sitting next to each other on the grassy ground in the clearing where John had spent the night behind enemy lines, staring attentively at their superior and friend, their weapons lying on the ground beside them. The sun had sunk lower in the sky during their cleaning of the place, signalling the rapidly approaching end of the day and coating even the strongly verdant jungle in an almost cerise luminescence, which only added to the breathtaking display of hues in G-Wing's immediate surroundings. The team had decided to use the clearing as a base, while they helped each other construct a hopefully impeccable plan, which would allow them to successfully infiltrate the alien HQ on the planet. The HQ was not far from their current position according to their Cornerian satellite uplinks, so they would have to come up with a reasonable strike plan, based on the scant facts about the aliens, which they had managed to obtain until now. During this session, they only referred to each other via their codenames, in fear of the aliens eavesdropping on them.

Leaning forwards slightly as he heard the commander's announcement, not caring much about the rubescent sky or the splendour it spread on the ground, John narrowed his eyes in wonderment as he looked at Jakob, "Intel? What do you mean, "intel"? We haven't got a thing! And could you please stop pacing around all the time? It drives me nuts!" Saber said heatedly, taking another large bite of the ration, which Ghost had given him before the briefing. Since they had not had anything edible with them into the jungle, both John and Mikki were practically starving when the team had assembled, and they gratefully accepted the spare rations, which Jakob and Krystal had brought with them. Even now during the briefing, the two were devouring their food ravenously, caring little about the stale taste.

"Unfortunately, I won't stop pacing just to please you, Saber. It keeps my mind working, you know," Ghost grinned slyly, tapping the side of his head with his finger as he continued, keeping his gaze at John, "Actually, we do have some very valuable intel, despite you adamantly stating otherwise, and I'll be happy to present it to you. Our intel, team, is the nature of fate, which was clearly visible to us today in our… hmm… involuntary encounters with the alien troops. Fate possesses a certain dualistic nature, so to speak. It wields a double-edged sword, which didn't harm us with its most recent stroke, fortuitously enough for us. Instead, it endowed us with a fragment of a most capricious fortune," the loquacious commander stated calmly, assuming that his team understood him.

Quite the opposite proved to be the case when Shield stopped chewing on his ration and eyed Jakob in a strange way, almost as if he were intrigued by his friend's speech, "And what do you mean by that, exactly? That we should praise ourselves lucky just because we survived today?" he asked curiously, wanting to know if he had understood Jakob's depiction of the situation correctly. However, just before Ghost could nod his partial affirmation of Mikki's estimation, Krystal chimed in with a comment, her accented and melodious voice resounding clearly in the silent jungle.

"Yeah, I think you're right, Shield, but you could also see it like this: Fate both has the power to damage and to improve by chance. In our case, fate improved our odds because we managed to take out those aliens without getting hurt…. Well, apart from your little scratch there, of course!" she grinned merrily as Shield raised his bandaged arm with an indignant, but joking, expression on his face before the young Cerinian continued her explanation, "Also, by seeing their presence in the jungle, actively searching for us, we now know that the enemy is vigilant and looking for intruders, so we need to be careful when we attack their base. We can't just kick down the front door and waltz right in… sorry, Shield, but that won't do," she stated firmly, smiling apologetically as she saw Mikki's rueful expression, knowing of his fondness for destruction.

"We have to think of another way. Lastly, I think that we're meant to use this chance we've been afforded while we have it; that's why our fortune is capricious: A large number of enemy troops is probably out in the jungle by now, searching for us, which means that the defences on the main base will be somewhat lessened. However, if we don't move relatively soon, they'll return home to the base, and then I'll bet that we have a much harder time getting in. Isn't that right, Ghost?" Krystal queried confidently as she looked at her friend, her emerald eyes glimmering with the clarity of insight.

Upon hearing that the cerulean vixen had interpreted his layout perfectly, Jakob stopped his slow pacing and froze because of sheer amazement, turning his head towards Krystal with a wide smile of admiration on his face, "A most cogent observation, to be sure. Bravo, Krystal! Thank you for adumbrating my statement for me, because that's exactly what I meant. It seems that the erudition I've been arduously trying to instil in you has finally begun to show itself! Well done!" the commander complimented his Cerinian friend affectionately. In his mind, moments before he began to speak again, Ghost triumphantly considered this newly revealed aspect of Krystal's mental workings.

Indeed, ever since he had been teamed up with her for the first time seven months ago, he had clearly sensed that she possessed an extremely keen intellect, as well as a most profound mental and emotional acuity; however, this notable perspicacity seemed to abandon her whenever it came to matters involving slightly deeper thinking into hypothetical or metaphysical aspects of reality. As her newly assigned partner, in addition to protecting her from harm, Jakob had also taken it upon himself quite voluntarily to broaden Krystal's horizons, as it were, and utilize his own knowledge of such phenomena to endow the young Cerinian with an at least partial knowledge of classic philosophy – even earthly literature –, hypothetical thinking and metaphysical, existential principles. He taught her these things whenever an opportune moment presented itself, for instance when she was faced with an intriguing conundrum aboard the Great Fox, or – as it had recently been proved – several times during a mission. It would never hurt to expand one's mental faculties, and it would seem that Krystal had finally begun to use some of the mental aspects, which Ghost had taught her during their time together, with good results to boot.

Resuming his plan for their strike on the alien main base, the human commander began to pace back and forth yet again, this time with an alacritous spring in his step, while raising his voice, "Alright then, since you all know our current situation, the only thing left for us to decide is how and when we initiate our strike. Now, call me overly circumspect, but in lieu of a traditional frontal attack, I think our most prudent option would be to wait for nightfall before we move out. If we strike now, I'm sure we'd be spotted in no time at all in this light, even with the lessened defences of the base. However, if we utilize the cover of darkness to our advantage, our chance of staying undetected would be drastically ameliorated if only we stay low. As you can probably deduce from the sunset", Jakob said, glancing up at the reddening sky, "the hour is quickly growing late, no doubt due to the gravitational anomaly, which seems to be affecting this planet. Hence, even if we waited until nightfall, it could be that some of the alien troops hadn't returned home yet, so the lessening of their defence would conceivably be the same as now during their absence. What do you think, guys?" he queried interrogatively, wanting to know if his plan had any support with his friends at all.

Mikki and Krystal looked quite pleased with his suggestion, nodding affirmatively at him. John, however, was apparently struggling with some inner thoughts regarding the nature of the attack, at least if one looked at the exasperated expression on his face. Doubtless, this mental conflict stemmed from the fact that a lust for vengeance was raging violently inside him after seeing his Marine-comrades being executed right before his eyes. Because of this, he did not believe that a strike based on stealth instead of direct confrontation would yield any positive results in that regard, and he let this concern show as he addressed Ghost sceptically, "Nah, I don't know about that, man. I don't really think that playing hide-and-seek is the answer. Personally, I just want to lay the hurt on those bastards!" he emphasized strongly, before suddenly experiencing an unexpected lucid moment, narrowing his eyes as he assumed an air of slyness.

"Hey, wait a minute…" Saber mumbled thoughtfully as he considered this newly conceived possibility, "How about a diversion? If we split up, two of us can cause a distraction and hold those alien bastards at bay. Then, the other two would have time to sneak inside and clear the way for the others!" he exclaimed triumphantly, very pleased by having thought out a viable strike plan, which was not flawed by any precipitous actions, as was usually the case with him.

Looking at the sword-wielding lieutenant in wonderment, baffled by his sudden display of tactical thinking, Shield smiled appreciatively before he voiced his opinion on the matter, complimenting his friend as he did so, "Man, that's a great idea, Saber! I agree with you; I think we all do. That'd be perfect! Can't you see it? Saber and I wreak some nice havoc at the front of the base to attract the main bunch of their troops, while you and Krystal sneak in from the back and take the stragglers out silently," he explained, pointing at Jakob, "When it's clear, you radio me and Saber, and we'll come straight to you and regroup before we all enter the interior of the base. We'll stay hidden when we attack the front, so those dumb troops won't know where we've gone when we stop firing. They'll have a hard time trying to find us!" Mikki grinned enthusiastically, greatly enjoying the swiftness with which he managed to expand upon John's plan.

Positively overwhelmed by the ingenious plan, which his friends had just come up with, Ghost stopped his pacing and sat down on the grass in front of them, a wide smile of undisguised approval and impression on his face, "Wow, guys! That's all I can say; I'm completely amazed. That plan was incredible, and you can definitely count me in. Our mutual synergy and celerity of mind continue to serve us well, especially on this quite auspicious evening!" he said, indicating the fact that their chances of completing their mission successfully had been drastically improved by the plan, which they had managed to fabricate just now in the increasing dusk. Then, he turned to Krystal to ask for her opinion as the last, "What do you think about all this, Krys?"

The cerulean vixen did not protest in the least. On the contrary, her reply was one of affirmation as she approved of the plan and the immediate attack, "I think it's an excellent idea, and I'm sure that you guys can take care of yourselves," she said with a smile, nodding at Shield and Saber, "After all, you two combined are close to being the most destructive force in the entire Lylat System, so I can't see how the aliens should be able to stand any chance against you! As for me, I'm completely fine with not exposing myself too much, partially because I like to operate that way, partially because these aliens seem very intent on capturing me for some strange reason, and also because…" she said, hesitating slightly, before coming to grips with herself and telling Mikki and John the thing she had already told Jakob, "… I'm going to be married to Fox soon, so I don't want a stray laser-blast to ruin that experience for me," Krystal said determinedly, looking closely at the sergeant and the lieutenant to see their reactions to this sudden revelation.

As soon as the young Cerinian had uttered those last words, Shield and Saber were stunned by a profound stupor of amazement, which only enabled them to look at her in complete perplexity before John broke the spell with his surprised exclamation, "You're _what_?!" he shouted incredulously, not caring in the least if the enemy heard him by accident. To prove her point, Krystal took Fox's engagement ring off her finger for them to see, while she told them the same things she had told Ghost when he had noticed her ring at the start of the day.

When she had finished her explanation, Mikki was the first to congratulate her, "Wow, Krystal, that's great for you. Congratulations!" he said respectfully as he stretched his hand out, smiling widely as they shook hands in a friendly manner, "I swear on my laser-wound that I'll use up every weapon in my arsenal and die before I let those alien idiots spoil your future!" he said with unrestrained fervour, staying true to his fighting spirit as he saluted the cerulean vixen with his bandaged arm despite the slight twinge of pain it caused him. When Shield had finished his compliment, Saber took over.

"I almost can't believe it, Krystal!" he mumbled with a smile as he shook his head softly in disbelief, "You being married; that's just a strange thought. Still, I'd really like to see it happen… and to eat through that nice buffet, which you'll have for the wedding, if I'm invited, of course!" John grinned merrily, before taking on a slightly more serious appearance, "Man, that's really something worth fighting for; not only for you, Krystal, but for all of us. Marriage is a beautiful thing. So therefore, let me tell you right now: If any of those alien soldiers as much as thinks about harming you, I'll cut them in half when I'm done at the front with Shield! We'll give them hell for you, Krystal, trust me," Saber promised sincerely, grinning joyfully as Krystal reached over and rubbed his cap around on his head in a friendly gesture of appreciation.

Seeing these happy and enthusiastic reactions to Krystal's situation from his team-mates, Ghost could not help smiling widely. Just as he had estimated, the revelation was of such an incredible nature that the importance of it was strong enough to bind the members of Team G-Wing even closer together in their common defence of one of their allies and her future, along with the rest of Lylat. Thus, unified and invigorated by the momentous piece of news from Krystal and in possession of a clearly defined and effective strike plan, the team inspected their weapons and other equipment while chatting idly with one another, waiting for nightfall to come. As the light gradually faded and the shadows grew longer, reaching almost ominously through the terrain of the jungle, one incontrovertible truth had lodged itself in the heads of the three humans and one Cerinian:

This would be a fateful night. A night of valour, of skill and endurance… but undoubtedly also of death.


	14. Chp 12: An Army of Four

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Hello, everyone! Yes, I'm back with a new chapter for you at last. I'm terribly sorry for the extremely long delay, but that just shows how time-consuming education can be. :-) However, despite these odds, I've managed to finally write this chapter, and now that I post it, I certainly hope you like it. Please let me know what you think… those reviews always give one the incentive to write more, right? Again, I must extend my most heartfelt thanks to all of my trusty readers, and especially these fantastic reviewers (in no particular order):

**Knightcommander**

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Thank you for your patience and immense support, guys. Without you, I wouldn't be here writing this. ;-)

Later in this chapter, there will once again be references to persons and events in the original G-Wing story, so it would be pretty good for you to at least familiarize yourself with what happened in it. Again, if there's something you can't get to fit into the chronological order of things, feel free to PM me, and I'll do my very best to explain it to you.

Okay then… Enough of my ranting. Let's get this show on the road! Enjoy, everyone!

**Chapter 12: ****An Army of Four**

From Fox's log: _Team Star Fox doesn't really have a part to play in this conflict anymore, now that the alien fleet has been destroyed. All we can do now is sit onboard the Great Fox and wait to hear from Pepper or G-Wing when they report with conclusive evidence of their success. The responsibility for stopping these aliens now rests on the shoulders of three humans and Krystal… but hell, they've done so many nearly impossible things in their time, so stopping an entire alien race bent on warmongering should be a piece of cake for them._

Because of the gravitational anomaly, which seemed to hold the alien planet in an inexplicable grip, night was advancing rapidly on the desolate, benighted world. The cycle of day and night transpired much quicker than the standard twenty-four hours, which would normally be the case on Earth, and as such, accommodating oneself to these sudden shifts between blinding light and obscuring darkness might prove to be a more onerous task than originally expected.

However, the ones who both felt and saw it most notably, namely the members of Team G-Wing along with Krystal in the jungle, did not seem to be visibly bothered by the subtle, but noticeable, transition. On the contrary, it was an aid for them in determining time and logical progression in what had otherwise been a chaotic sequence of turbulent hours involving both interstellar and planetary battles against the alien menace, treason by Cain Tyler's hand, separation from one another and, most recently, a reunion amidst alien sweeper teams gunning for them in the uncharted wilderness of the jungle. Now that they were together and had planned their offensive against the aliens, they felt that the time to act was almost upon them. They had agreed to move out by nightfall, and if one only cast a fleeting glance on their surroundings, one would come to realize that this decisive hour was not too far away.

Tendrils of inky blackness were beginning to materialize between the light pearly clouds as the ebon cape of night spread itself in an excruciatingly slow manner across the sky, draining out the radiant, celestial and rubescent glow emitted by the sun in its last sinking minutes. The cerise tint from the setting sun, which had dominated the sky, the various lush trees and the grass up until now, had begun to wane slowly but steadily, making the surroundings gradually lose their touch of natural warmth and beauty, replacing it with the cold, featureless contours of a landscape in the woods dominated by darkness and silence; a nightly landscape usually found on a glacial world, where only the strongest and most ruthless survived.

Curiously enough, even though there was no coldness in the fragrant and humid tropical air, these impressions prompted by the lighting were rather representative of the profound changes in mind-set, which Team G-Wing and Krystal were undergoing in the same rhythmic manner as nature itself. From considering their time together as being one of enjoyable rest, strategic talk and planning with each other, being the close comrades in arms that they were, this mood of light-hearted effervescence – even in matters involving purely military aspects – soon began to dissipate at the same rate as the fleeting light. Instead, they were overtaken by a cool, reserved and objective callousness towards the goals they needed to accomplish this night. It was as if the approaching darkness, quite contrary to what was commonly said, had a cleansing and sharpening effect on their eyes, making the artificial and deceitful veil of natural beauty disappear from their surroundings, thus allowing them to see the world as it really was without being misled by way too optimistic thoughts or idyllic simulacra.

As he sat cross-legged on the ground in the growing dusk, his chrome-coated weapons spread out on the grass before him, Jakob inwardly complimented his friends, Mikki and John, for apparently sharing this impulse as well. The two were sitting some distance from him in the clearing, going over the tactical manoeuvres that each of them had suggested when the team had conceived their current plan for a strike on the alien HQ. Even though the light was dwindling, it was easy to make out Shield's broad-shouldered bulk with the flak-vest next to Saber's lithe and agile frame.

The two were debating fiercely who should have the privilege of firing the first shot when they were in position in front of the main gate into the alien base; the shot which would be so utterly fateful to the unsuspecting aliens and throw their undoubtedly well-established defences into a state of irreparable – but useful – disarray, giving Ghost and Krystal the chance to stealthily slip behind their perimeter and clear the way for the others. If everything went according to plan, Mikki and John would stay hidden in the bushes while they relentlessly rained death and ruin down upon the alien sentries for as long as Jakob and Krystal needed to clear out the rear section of the base. When they got the signal that everything was clear from the young Cerinian and her human military partner, the sergeant and lieutenant would withdraw hastily to their position, converging and regrouping with the others so that they might breach the interior of the base together.

Interested in hearing what Mikki and John were actually proposing, Jakob decided to abandon his current check of his weapons – he could always do that after having familiarized himself with the tentative ideas of his friends first. Leaving his weapons on the ground, the commander stood up with a sudden display of alacrity, before traversing the clearing briskly in several long strides, which put him right next to his two fellow team members. However, they were so absorbed in their heated discussion that they did not even notice him standing there until he verbally made his appearance known.

"Hey, guys!" he said enthusiastically, causing the two to abruptly terminate their lively talk and look up at the tall coat-wearing figure standing next to them, his features somewhat obscured by the growing darkness. "So, what are you planning?" Ghost enquired interestedly, squatting down beside Shield and Saber in order to involve himself in their discussion.

"Well, before you decided to interrupt us", John said smugly, eyeing his friend with a humorous glint in his eyes from under his cap, "Shield and I were just about to agree on who should fire the first shot to distract those alien bastards for you… If I remember correctly, I believe we decided that it should be me!" he concluded with a provocative note in his voice, grinning broadly as he saw the reaction it prompted from Mikki.

"Oh come on, Saber, you know just as well as I do that what you said is a lie!" Shield retorted, not being able to hide the revealing note of a joking statement in his tone of voice, "I clearly remember it the other way around. It should be me, because I can cause the largest amount of destruction in one shot with my favourite weapon here," he smiled, patting his Cornerian rocket launcher affectionately as he did so. The crimson, cylindrical weapon was lying on the ground next to the sergeant, its deadly piece of explosive ordnance fastened at the front of the red tube in the form of a small rocket, ready to fly out at the squeeze of the trigger and unleash unprecedented death and mayhem wherever it went.

John, however, did not seem to be noticeably daunted by Mikki's confidence in his own destructive abilities. On the contrary, instead of an admission, what Shield's utterance elicited from him was an extremely non-committal response, "Whatever, man. I guess we'll find out when we get moving," Saber said tiredly, before fixing his gaze at Jakob, "Which, if I had my way, would be right about now. I can't stand waiting any longer! Seriously, we've been waiting and planning for almost two hours now, and if I have to look at this jungle for one minute longer, I'll fall asleep; it's as simple as that. There's absolutely nothing to shoot at!" he proclaimed with a wry grin, stretching languidly as he did so in an attempt to emphasize the extreme boredom he was feeling about merely waiting for the imminent assault on the alien fortress to begin.

As if to imply that he understood his friend's predicament perfectly, Ghost sent his vest-clad friend a sympathetic look and smiled apologetically, "Hey, I know where you're coming from, but when we're dealing with a strike as crucial as this one, it's imperative that we have every single detail covered before we embark on our mission. One small slip-up could mean the death of us all. I assume that death among your team-mates is something you've seen enough of today, right?" he asked the lieutenant sombrely, referring to the unfortunate incident, which brought Team G-Wing to the alien planet in the first place, namely the untimely demise of John's fellow Cornerian Marines in an alien ambush.

Seeing Saber nod meekly in affirmation, reminded of the sudden feeling of terror that this event had caused within him, Jakob abruptly changed his demeanour to a more insouciant and confident one in order to heighten his friend's morale, "Good; then I'm sure you know the importance of preparing oneself meticulously for such an assignment. I promise you, you'll have plenty of heads to fry in fifteen minutes or so, but for now, just concentrate on the final preparations. Do a weapons-check and make sure your weapons are all loaded and ready… I'm sure you'll need it!" the commander said as he stood up again, nodding in approval as John swiftly drew his custom-made, revolver-shaped blaster from its holster and began inspecting it thoroughly, removing the energy cell from the chamber after a short time of study in order to examine it for any anomalies. With a satisfied smile forming on his face upon seeing the devotion and skill, which his friends now demonstrated – and which he knew that they were capable of showing when they needed to – Ghost let his gaze sweep across them, coming to a halt at Shield, who just looked at him indignantly, albeit with a trace of friendly jest in his eyes and tone as he spoke.

"Hey Ghost, there's no point in telling me to do a weapons-check, man… You know that my weapons are always primed and ready to go!" the sergeant grinned broadly, receiving nothing more than a dismissive wave of the hand and a friendly smile from his superior, who knew full well that Mikki was just joking. This fact was evident, though, as Shield mere moments afterwards began to inspect his weapons, both Gatling-gun and homing launcher, to make sure that they were in pristine order and that nothing would hinder them from functioning properly when the time arose to use them to their fullest potential.

Content with the visibly professional actions, which were now exhibited by his friends, Jakob walked back towards the place in the clearing where he could see his own weapons shimmering faintly in the grass as strange cinnabar gemstones, as the shining chrome reflected the last dying rays of the rapidly decreasing sunlight. Krystal was sitting right next to this heap of discarded weaponry, in the midst of inspecting her own sniper rifle thoroughly in preparation for the coming assault. As she heard the light footsteps of her friend approaching her position, the cerulean vixen turned her head in order to fixate her emerald eyes upon him, the ruby tiara on her forehead coruscating beautifully in the evening light as she did so.

"Hey Ghost!" she smiled, receiving a polite nod from the human commander in return, "So, how are Shield and Saber doing?" she queried anxiously, immediately inferring that her friend must have gone to check on his team-mates, even though she did not see him go, captivated as she was by the study of her weapon.

"Oh, don't you worry about them. They're doing just fine," Jakob answered airily as he sat down next to Krystal, looking her in the eye as he spoke, "They're as occupied with checking their weapons now as you were just before. Can you blame them? I don't think so. If there's something experience has taught me, it is that you stand a much better chance of succeeding in whatever endeavour you're undertaking if you're extremely well prepared and have made sure that there's absolutely no possibility of failure contained within the tools you're using to carry out your assignment. That way, if you fail, it's a small comfort to know that it wasn't a material thing, which caused such a disastrous outcome of events, but rather your own lacking in proficiency and skill. Such a circumstance can always be remedied with training and practice in that skill. Technological and material anomalies, on the other hand, take time, research and the consumption of precious resources to ameliorate," Ghost explained calmly, waiting to see if Krystal found his thoughts cogent.

For a moment, the young Cerinian let the words of her human friend swirl around in her head as she reflected on the logic in them. Clearly, the preparation of Team G-Wing and herself was good for something, even though it took time, but the fact that they checked their weapons almost instinctively, without bothering to actually question why they were doing it, told her that Jakob's words held a good amount of credulity and veracity. They wanted to be absolutely sure that the cause of their downfall – if ever such a downfall were to transpire – was not to be found in their equipment. Their skills seemed honed and tested enough to take them through any given situation, and as such, they provided a good basis for survival in their harsh and unforgiving profession as intergalactic soldiers.

With this convincing conclusion lodged firmly in her mind, Krystal let a smile of acknowledgement and appreciation play across her face in recognition of the certainty, with which her friend had just described what was always thought of as "standard procedures" on the team. She expressed this thought shortly afterwards, "You know what, Ghost? I think you're right. We're doing this both out of need and training, but also as an assurance to ourselves. We don't want to fail just because our equipment might have a flaw."

Upon hearing her formulate this conclusion, Jakob turned his attention away from his weapons for a moment to let his gaze dwell on Krystal's delicate features complemented by the cerulean fur, simultaneously contemplating the inchoate predominance of the otherwise seemingly dormant perspicacity and brilliance, which her mind undoubtedly possessed, "Exactly right, Krys. You're proving to be quite a philosophical adversary for me now! That wasn't supposed to happen!" he grinned jokingly, provoking an equally as friendly grin from the young vixen before turning sincere again, "No, but seriously, it's very good to see that you think about such matters. It expands your view of the world, doesn't it? If it's my fault that you've begun to think like that now, I'm only glad to have contributed to the evolution of your mental acuity and capabilities. I'm sure Fox will be glad to have a wife, who complements him in his musings about the ineluctable vicissitudes of life," Ghost said knowingly, smiling widely as Krystal evidently found this compliment quite inspiriting.

However, the young commander found that his attention was now drawn to more pressing matters, as he found his gaze drifting instinctively towards his weapons, the chrome-coated dual laser blasters and laser sub-machine guns, which were lying on the ground in front of him, and he politely excused himself to his Cerinian friend as he turned towards the weapons, "Now, Krystal, before we move out, allow me just a moment to appraise my paraphernalia, all right?"

From personal experience, Jakob knew that he would not be secure and have faith in the eventual victory of himself and his friends if his own weapons were not thoroughly checked and deemed immaculately in order. Therefore, he resolutely took action by grabbing hold of his pistol-like blasters and ejecting the energy cells from them with a quick, practised flick of the wrist, laying each part on the ground in front of him. The same separation of weapon and energy cell was done swiftly and professionally with his SMGs as well. As he yanked the spare energy cells free from their straps in his belt and laid them on the ground, Ghost noticed that he was barely consciously aware of the actions, which he performed. It was not a process, which he had to strain his mind to comprehend and accomplish. Rather, this procedure was a set of routinely practiced movements in a logical sequence, which did not require much thought to execute, but still got the job done in regard to doing a weapons-check swiftly and efficiently.

Intrigued by this almost ritualistic process, Krystal looked on curiously as Jakob was finally done with spreading his weapons and energy cells out in a fan-like pattern on the ground before him, their chrome-coated surface glimmering vaguely in the final rays of Solar. After having studied the various components contemplatively for some time, not making any moves at all, Ghost finally nodded decisively to himself and grabbed hold of one of the now empty blasters in one gloved hand while taking an energy cell with the other. Moving the two components slowly and precariously, almost as if he were afraid that something would go wrong if he exceeded a certain limit of caution in the process, the commander inserted the energy cell into the now hollow butt of the blaster with a loud and clear clicking sound of mechanical components interlocking. As the small indicator on the side of the blaster suddenly flared up and glowed a vibrant green, indicating that the energy level in the weapon was at its highest, Jakob allowed himself a satisfactory smile before returning the weapon to one of the blaster-holsters at the sides of his belt.

At this point, Krystal had observed the reloading of the weapons for a long time, and since she was already done with checking both her rifle and her staff, she could no longer control her visibly growing curiosity, faced with this peculiar, systematic way of doing a weapons-check. This unbridled feeling of wonder was expressed shortly afterwards in the form of a simple question from the cerulean vixen, just as the taciturn commander reached for his other blaster and another energy cell, "What are you doing, Ghost?"

Feeling that this sudden question interrupted his normally tranquil and automatic reloading-procedure, Jakob flinched in surprise for the shortest of moments before resuming the process of checking his weapons, not even looking at his friend as he answered her concisely, "I'm reloading my guns. I fear that if I don't, the energy contained within the energy cells might become stale and less powerful. We don't want that in the middle of an eventual fire-fight, now do we, Krys? If it happens, it can't be rectified in the field, I'm afraid."

Faced with this short statement, Krystal at first accepted it without questioning her friend further, seeing as she had gotten an answer to the problem that vexed her. However, as she thought about his explanation for a while, something in it struck her as oddly incongruous, namely Ghost's reason for doing it in the first place: That the energy in the cells would become weaker if it were not renewed through the reloading of the weapons. She let this wonderment shine through as she enquired further into the matter, a bemused expression dominating her vulpine features, "But it's energy, Jakob, not a liquid or a gas or something like that. If it were a liquid, I could understand you, but not with energy. Energy is ever-functioning, isn't it?" she asked inquisitively, wanting to fully understand Ghost's motives for doing what he did.

To her undisguised surprise, Jakob merely shrugged and began to explain his reasons for thinking as he did, maintaining a brooding demeanour and tone of voice as he carefully examined the energy cell by turning it slowly in his grasp, "Conceivably, but what scientific proof do we have that says otherwise? Some, but nothing which is definitely conclusive. That statement stands rather uncorroborated, and hence energy in its contained form might as well work like any other physical substance we know in regard to becoming stale after a period of inactivity. Our perception of energy as an ever-lasting and unalterable power source is but a mere conjecture at best, even when it's used for ammunition like you do here in Lylat."

Having heard this somewhat cryptic explanation, which Ghost provided, the young Cerinian yet again lapsed into the silence of thought and ratiocination, fiercely trying to make sense of the arguments, which he had presented as equably as if they were commonly known and indisputable truisms. However, such a logical coherence would not come, as Krystal found Jakob's thoughts to be contradicted by an event, which she had experienced many times in her service on Team Star Fox, and she expressed this contradiction shortly afterwards, "Hmm… I can see what you're saying, but I've been using this sniper rifle over and over during my time on Team Star Fox. Sometimes, I've been on a mission and still had some shots left in the cell. Then I didn't use my rifle for days, and it just laid there on the shelf with the same energy cell in it. I didn't change it, but when I fired it a few days afterwards, it worked just fine."

However, this did not elicit the acceptance of her view from her friend, which the cerulean vixen had hoped for. Quite on the contrary, Ghost actually allowed himself a quiet chuckle, as if he were somehow amused by Krystal's memory of her unfailing weapon, or as if he found something in it rather weakly supported by logical arguments, "Heh! Some would call that story convincing, Krystal, especially since it's delivered by your immensely charming self, but I say you should just praise yourself lucky. Why else do you think that Heisenberg, a physicist back on Earth, formulated a scientific law called The Uncertainly Principle? Because uncertainty is omnipresent, however small it may be. Up until now, you've just managed to avoid it somehow, Krys, both in regard to your arms and certain… ahem… unfortunate occurrences in the field concerning those you hold dear, be it Fox or… others," he concluded hesitantly, choosing to express the consequences of this sequence of thought with a mild euphemism by not naming any of the involved individuals, since the truth was also rather disconcerting to him as well.

Krystal was understandably confounded by her friend's insistence that she could not trust her own experience, and as such she was left with a slightly baffled expression on her face as he told her about the various earthly theories that had been made to verify the perpetual existence of uncertainty. However, when she heard him express the consequences of uncertainty, it did not take the mentally acute vixen long to decipher his euphemism and realize the truth of his insinuation. As a result, she chose to express this sudden realization quite bewilderedly, seeing as how she was still taken aback by the almost incomprehensible brutality of Ghost's claim, "What do you mean? Are you implying that there's a risk that you or any of the others might suddenly die from me out here, no matter how long we've spent trying to eliminate that very risk? Please, the thought of losing you in the field along with me makes me shudder. I don't even want to think about that possibility! You know how much I care about you guys, and if you suddenly died right next to me, I'd be devastated! How can you even say something like that, Ghost?" Krystal asked uncomprehendingly, terrified to the core by the prospect of her friends dying right by her side in battle in the blink of an eye.

Immediately realizing that he had upset the cerulean vixen more than had been his intent, Jakob resolutely tried to convince her that he felt the same way as she did; that he as well did not at all relish the thought of his unexpected and untimely demise. His only meaning with the elaboration of the consequences of uncertainty had been to alert Krystal to this fact so that she might remember it, not to instil it in her as a source of fear and worry in the middle of a mission. Hence, Ghost temporarily stopped the reloading of his weapons in order to be able to turn his head and look Krystal convincingly in the eye as he spoke.

"Well, pursuant to common rules of cause and effect, every action creates a reaction, and that reaction might easily be a counterattack in response to our attack. Truth be told, Krys, the thought of our otherwise indissoluble friendship being abruptly brought to an end by an energy beam from a blaster isn't exactly appealing to me, either, and it'll never be. Nonetheless, it's the brutal truth that something like that might happen if enemy troops stumble upon a fortuitous chance for them to gun us down. Now, you asked me before how I could possibly claim something as seemingly preposterous as this in spite of our aptitude at avoiding such occurrences… Alright, if you want to know, brace yourself. It's a rather long and complex explanation. How can I explain it to you, so that you might understand it, anyway? Let's see… "

The commander lapsed into a contemplative silence, bowing his head slightly and narrowing his eyes as he thought in order to present Krystal with a logical and veracious elucidation in regard to this way of thinking. In order for her to fully understand his reasoning, it was imperative that she acquire some familiarity with the interstitial details of his philosophy, at least, and as such he was faced with the task of delineating a useful theory to her in a comprehensible manner. Not soon after, his eyes shot open as a theory he had read long ago suddenly dawned upon him in his mind; a most useful theory for this particular task, in fact.

Levelling his gaze at the young Cerinian before him, who stared at him expectantly, Jakob began to talk enthusiastically, now having an unquestionably valid philosophical source to draw his conclusions upon and thus quite a small risk for presenting his friend with erroneously deduced arguments, "Ah yes, good old Hume, of course. In case you're wondering, Krystal, Hume is yet another earthly philosopher, who has formulated some principles about just this problem, or something with a very close resemblance to it, at the very least. Now, I'd like to try out one of Hume's arguments on you, so that you can hopefully see what I mean in the end. Tell me, Krys, when you've dropped something, either by accident or deliberately, what happened to it?" he asked her inquisitively, pushing the metallic energy-cell into place in the butt of his other blaster with a similarly characteristic sharp click.

"Well, it just fell to the floor like it should. What's so strange about that?" Krystal asked her human interlocutor uncomprehendingly, not understanding his sudden digression into a philosophical discussion rather than the ethical one they were just having. To her undisguised surprise, Jakob heaved a deep sigh, almost as if he mourned her lacking insight into a particular aspect of reality, before he started to expound on Hume's philosophy.

"Yes, there it was, utterly predictable as it is: "Like it should". You've never given it any thought that next time you drop something, it might fall to the floor, but then again it might also fall upwards or even experiment with the prospect of going sideways just as easily, namely because you attribute the aspect of naturally falling down when in free air to an object, without thinking of other possible results of dropping something. You see, Krystal, Hume formulates the thesis that the behaviour of a physical object or pure matter is solely dictated by the habits and first impressions that the onlookers in the world around it have developed and attributed to it by watching it. Thus, there are no definite physical laws that state the exact behavioural pattern of an object, or an occurrence for that matter, and just as confident as the onlookers are in their certainty that the behaviour they've formulated for a particular thing or event is right, just as shocked will they be when it changes and behaves contrary to their belief at some point in the future. "

During his monologue, Ghost briefly stopped talking as he reloaded one of his SMGs, the double energy cell giving off the same clicking noise as before when he inserted it into the empty power socket on the underside of the weapon. As he put it in one of the holsters on his knees and reached for the last weapon and cell, he continued speaking, "Now, we're so technologically advanced that we can account for the presence of physical laws with certainty, but what we still can't account for is how a particular occurrence or seemingly established fact will change when under the influence of uncertainty, which – as Heisenberg reminds us – is ubiquitous. And as such, I think we can paraphrase and simplify Hume's excellent and wise statement a bit to draw the essence out of it. You can help me do so, Krys, by answering me this: What'll happen the next time you drop something?"

Initially taken aback by the sudden ending of her friend's speech, the cerulean vixen was at first noticeably perplexed and did not know what exactly to answer, overwhelmed as she was with the vast amount of information he had just presented her with so volubly. However, seeing as Jakob looked at her demandingly in expectation of a prompt answer, Krystal felt compelled to reply with an instinctive, albeit slightly hesitant, statement regarding her thoughts, which she managed to stammer out.

"Well, I… based on what you've just told me, I don't know, and I won't ever know for sure. It could fall to the floor like always, but it might also hover or something equally improbable, since I don't have any definite proof that it'll fall down every time, except for gravity," she said tentatively, not knowing exactly what kind of rendition of Hume's philosophy that Ghost expected her to convey in her interpretation of his words.

Still, it seemed that she would not have to worry about the exactitude of her response, for as he heard it, Jakob nodded approvingly and smacked the last energy cell into his remaining SMG before holstering it and reaching for the last of his weapons at the back of his belt; his combat knife. He routinely glanced at the blade and its edge, making sure that nothing was out of place with the blade, and that the edge remained sharp without any dents or flaws, before he put it back in its sheath, turning to face his friend with a wide smile of happiness lining his lips as he arranged the spare energy cells in the customized straps at the front of his belt. To him, it was a tremendous relief to see that Krystal had indeed understood his explication of Hume's theory, and that it had apparently brought her equanimity in regard to understanding that alternative measures were sometimes required to ensure a feeling of certainty in a constantly uncertain world.

Since he found that he could not inveigh against Krystal's interpretation, Ghost instead chose to enthusiastically compliment the acuteness of her powers of observation, "Exactly! Everything that Hume said can basically be considered as this statement: "Past experience can never prove the future". That's precisely my reason for reloading my guns before, even though it shouldn't be necessary according to popular theory, and also for suggesting that you or I might die in an unplanned moment caused by uncertainty, although we've come through relatively unscathed each time because of our training. Even though you've experienced the same thing over and over in the past, thus making it a recurring experience or fact, which you therefore hold to be true, there's never any guarantee that this will persist. This doesn't only apply to your energy-example, but to your entire life as well."

Here, the commander paused for a moment, as if he were considering his next words carefully, before he started speaking again, but this time with a faintly sepulchral note of dismal truth present in his voice, seeing as he was now moving on to describing the more severe consequences, which following this line of thinking implied, "You might as well realize, Krystal, that there's always a risk of an unplanned or uncertain occurrence supervening amidst any given situation, for instance a military campaign, and that this could possibly turn the tides for all those involved, friend or foe alike. Refusing to accept this universal truth would be tantamount to admitting defeat right there and then, especially if one's in the military, since one would undoubtedly be blinded by naivety in regard to one's chances of success. A small margin of misfortune and uncertainty is present in any future endeavour, and we simply can't get rid of it, no matter how many precautions we take, and no matter how certain we are that everything will work out as it has done before. I'm sorry to say this dispiriting thing to you in the middle of our mission, Krys, and it was certainly not meant as an animadversion of your optimistic thinking, but you have a right to know. It's an utter misconstruction to believe that everything can transpire flawlessly. Such is the deceitful nature of the mirage we know as certainty."

Having thus concluded his explanation to Krystal, along with having thoroughly examined and arranged his various accoutrements, Jakob allowed himself to slump down on the grass, not at all minding the world around him for a while as he briefly relaxed, letting out a relieved and slightly exhausted sigh of contentment upon having accomplished the considerable endeavour of conveying a message of philosophy to one of his friends. It had fuelled his loquacity, like such matters always did when he got the chance to elaborate on them in detail, but the concomitant relaying of someone else's mental ideas and perceptions to another in a recognizable and understandable form was a rather strenuous affair for the mind, and therefore, he felt his right to relax was rightly justified.

However, this peace of mind did not last for long, since a blue-furred hand settled on his right shoulder shortly afterwards. Glancing curiously to the side, he saw that Krystal had now also squatted down beside him and had grabbed his shoulder to get his attention, a thankful expression dominating her delicate features. Conceivably, she wanted to thank him for the process of understanding he had just guided her through, and that was precisely what she did, "You know, Ghost, I've always been taught that it's impolite if you don't repay the kindness that someone shows you, and since you displayed a lot of kindness towards me just before, I feel obliged to repay it," she smiled before progressing to the matter at hand, "Now, my memory of Cerinia isn't exactly clear, but what I do remember is that we had a lot of rites to help us in our daily routines and grant us comfort, should we need it. Considering that we're about to head into a battle, I thought that you'd like to learn one of those rites."

Jakob blinked in surprise a couple of times as he heard the vixen's offer. He had never been one to explicitly trust in superstitious sayings or religious rites, although he found them quite exciting to study and learn about, but he felt that the team's current mission was of such extraordinary character that it demanded a considerably different way of dealing with eventually arising problems than just immaculate strategic planning. It was this realization that prompted him to nod in affirmation, causing Krystal to elaborate further on the rite in question, "Well, it's an old battle-prayer, which was used by the guards and warriors of the royal household, if I remember correctly. It's very simple, really. It's designed to grant every warrior what suits him best in battle, and that's why there's almost no incantation to be learned by heart. The only constant phrase of the prayer is: "In the name of Cerinia, I bring death to Her enemies." Got it?" the cerulean vixen asked, wanting to know if her friend had heard her correctly.

It did indeed seem as if Jakob had understood her perfectly, for he answered her directly afterwards in an unwavering and invoking tone of voice, as if he were really beseeching divine powers to aid him, "In the name of Cerinia, I bring death to Her enemies," he repeated firmly with a commanding intonation, provoking a smile of admiration from Krystal. However, it also seemed as if the understanding of the prayer itself eluded him, for he let a contemplative frown form on his forehead as he addressed his Cerinian friend enquiringly, "But who is it that the prayer is referring to? I bring death to "Her" enemies… but who is she? And what about the rest of the prayer? As far as my knowledge of prayers is concerned, you can't have a prayer that only consists of a statement. You have to implore some entity to aid you, at the very least."

Ghost's confusion was taken quite lightly by Krystal, who merely took on an aura of interest and appreciation as she enthusiastically began to elaborate on this piece of legend from her destroyed home-world, "Yeah, I understand you're confused, but I'll try to explain it to you. The prayer is referring to Cerinia itself. My people used to view the entire world as a single living thing, which granted us all we needed, in conjunction with the Krazoa."

At the very mention of the word "Krazoa", Jakob's attention to what Krystal was saying seemed to be dramatically enhanced, as he clicked his tongue audibly in understanding. A long-awaited solution to the vexing enigma of Cerinians and their nature had suddenly dawned upon him with Krystal's clarification. Until now, he had only been able to rely on his own theories and the theories of others regarding this subject, seeing as how it had been presented to him back on Earth with many lacunae being present in the lacking portrayal of Cerinians as a race, which he had acquired through the various Star Fox-games. Now, with an explanation from a living, breathing Cerinian to document it, Ghost felt as if he were nearing a solution to this problem.

"So… your people did have an affinity for the divine arts, particularly for a connection with the Krazoa?" he asked her wonderingly, and continued his reasoning upon seeing her affirmative nod, "Well, that explains a lot of things. Let's see… If the Krazoa were your governing spiritual entities back on Cerinia, it's understandable that your staff can do all those crazy things, if we take the theory as far as assuming that the Krazoa could imbue mortals and inanimate objects with their powers. Furthermore, we may surmise that the Cerinians have made a diplomatic connection to Sauria at some point, or else the rest of this theory wouldn't make sense. Now, following Cerinia's destruction, the Krazoa suddenly stood without a home, and were looking for a new planet to govern. Subsequently, through their vigilance regarding the affairs of Cerinia and its people, they knew of Sauria and its diplomatic connection with the Cerinians, so they decided to settle there and govern the planet in its primitive state, in the hope that some of their old "disciples" would one day discover them and come and look for them again… and fortunately you did, when the need was most dire," Jakob concluded triumphantly, pointing to Krystal, who merely flashed him a smile of appreciation.

"Speaking of the Krazoa, that brings me to my next point about that prayer," Krystal continued, "You do implore an entity for help, namely the Krazoa, but here's the thing: Since the prayer was designed to grant every warrior what he needed the most in battle, there's no formula for how you should address the Krazoa and what you should ask of them. That's entirely up to you. The only condition is that you should be respectful and tactful in your request. They are divine beings, after all!" she chuckled, picturing in her mind's eye the hilarious event it would be if a soldier casually asked something of some of the most powerful divine entities in the known universe.

Seeming to take this to heart, Ghost nodded decisively and looked thankfully at Krystal beside him, "Right, I'll definitely remember that once we're in the field. Thank you for that, Krys! I owe you one," the commander complimented his friend appreciatively, before fixating his gaze at Shield and Saber, who had long since ended the checks of their weapons and who were apparently still engrossed in their lively discussion about firing the first shot once they were in position in front of the alien base. Beckoning for Krystal to follow him, Jakob walked over to his friends. As the two got closer, they just caught the last snippets of the discussion, as it seemed that the two commandos were finally in agreement.

"Alright, Shield… You win! There's really no sense in arguing with you about this. You'll just wave your RPG around my nose as proof that you're right!" John grinned jovially, finally acquiescing to his friend's superior destructive capabilities when it came to disrupting the defences of the enemy. Mikki was seemingly quite pleased with this admission, for he only returned a wry grin and looked at Jakob and Krystal as they sat down next to the others, a brimming smile of triumph dominating his normally battle-hardened and stern visage.

"Hey guys, guess what: Saber's admitted that I'll be firing the first shot once we get in position! Ha, I knew it'd work out like this!" Shield grinned contently, unable to restrain his unbridled sense of joy in a tactful manner, "Now, I'll send those damn aliens flying and create a nice distraction for you. Plus, you've got the perfect signal to go by. You can move in at the sound of this one!" the sergeant exclaimed, hefting his massive crimson Cornerian rocket launcher and flinging it across his back in preparation for the imminent trek through the jungle towards the alien base of operations.

At the mention of Mikki's favourite weapon, Jakob allowed himself a quiet chuckle. Everyone on the team knew of Shield's deeply harboured fondness for extremely destructive, but also brutally efficient, armaments, and as such it came as no surprise for the others to hear that the sergeant placed a considerable amount of trust in his weapon, "Yeah, we all know what your RPG sounds like, Shield, so we won't have a problem identifying it. After all, you never let a chance of demonstrating it pass you by," the commander smiled, before starting to fiddle with the frequency dial for his comlink, "Now, if I remember correctly, we agreed to apprise Pepper of our current status when we regrouped and were ready to move out. I expect that the entire Cornerian High Command is waiting anxiously for Pepper to bring them news of our mission… and we don't want to let them down, now do we?" he asked rhetorically, tuning into an encrypted military frequency on a direct line to Pepper, "This is Ghost reporting. Do you copy, General?"

At first, there was nothing to affirm Jakob's query into the comlink, only an almost sibilant hiss of static, meaning that the signal was still waiting to be received somewhere. However, this sound of the void was merely a transient thing, for in a matter of seconds, a well-known, gruff and hoarse voice sounded audibly through the loudspeaker in Ghost's ear, cutting clearly through the static. The voice of the old Lylatian war veteran in command, General Pepper, "Ghost, this is Pepper. I read you perfectly. How is your team doing? Are you ready to move out?" he asked authoritatively, clearly underlining the fact that he was ultimately still in charge of the team's actions in hostile space.

These questions were promptly answered by Jakob, who informed the general fully about their plans, "Yes, sir. We're ready to commence our operation. We have worked out a viable strategy and will set it into motion as soon as we receive authorisation from you. Given a modicum of luck, our strike will initially cripple the defences of our enemy, allowing us to penetrate their defensive installations and their perimeter unhindered. From there, we'll covertly infiltrate the base and destroy any facilities that are vitally important to their war-effort, before making our escape. Hopefully, with their heart thusly skewered, it'll be a while before Lylat faces these aliens again… if they'll ever dare to come back, that is," the commander conceded.

There was a moment of contemplative silence on Pepper's end as Ghost had finished his thorough explanation of the team's plan. The old veteran and military leader was presumably mulling the proposed idea around in his head, trying to spot any immediate flaws. Still, it seemed that this process of thought was fruitless, for Pepper soon enough cleared his throat and spoke his next statement loudly and unequivocally, "Team G-Wiug, I approve of your plan, and I grant you the full authority to use any and all means necessary to accomplish your objectives. I'll inform High Command of your situation immediately, and I'll be waiting to receive further reports from you when you've done what you must,"

"Of course. Thank you, sir," Jakob replied respectfully, before presenting his own suggestion to his Lylaian superior, "However, with all due respect, sir, we would appreciate it if you could also inform Team Star Fox of our doings concurrent with your briefing of Cornerian High Command. That way, if High Command should prove recalcitrant for some reason regarding our mission, we have the most elite mercenary squadron in Lylat backing us up, not to mention that they're our very good friends. I'm pretty sure that they wouldn't take kindly to being kept in the dark about our status."

Again, there was a silence persisting on the line in the immediate time after the commander had finished talking. Still, he sensed that this was somehow not a silence of contemplation, but one of bafflement. His request had come suddenly and unexpectedly, and it was doubtless not a factor, which Pepper had figured into his normal chain of military briefing procedures. However, the silence ended abruptly when Pepper quickly came to a decision, "Of course, commander. I'll certainly keep Team Star Fox informed as well. That's the least I can do. You're quite right, also. I, too, believe that their opinion would be an effective way of swaying High Command. They do have a tendency to get caught up in military tradition sometimes in their decision-making. I wish you the best of luck! From here, you're on your own, but we know you can do it. I'll be waiting to hear from you soon. Pepper out!" the general declared with finality, terminating the signal and leaving the strangely sibilant hiss of static in the comlink, until Jakob swiftly turned the device off and faced his team again to relay Pepper's message to them.

"Alright, guys, listen up," he said determinedly, getting the undivided attention of his team, "Pepper has granted us completely free hands to do what we must to disrupt the operations of our enemy. I don't suppose I need to elaborate in particular on what such an authorisation implies, do I?" he asked humorously.

"Nah man, we know it!" John replied nonchalantly, "Smash, burn, shoot, destroy, it's all fair game! And let me tell you right now: I intend to make the most of it!" the lieutenant declared vengefully, letting there be no doubt among the assembled team members that the traumatic experience with the ambush in the jungle had clearly left its marks on him; marks in the form of rage and destruction, which he would not be hesitant about unleashing with full force on the aliens.

"I hear you, Saber," Mikki added, clearly understanding his friend's acrimonious feelings and not making any attempt to vitiate it, "I feel just as you do. I won't let those aliens get away with all those sick things they've done today. Let's move!" he said decisively, backed up by firm nods of approval from Saber and Krystal.

Eyeing his friends with noticeable satisfaction because of their unrelenting determination in the face of possibly lethal danger, Ghost let a smile of admiration cross his features before he gave his next order, "Right then, if this seems to be the dominant attitude, then I can't see any reason in procrastinating any longer. Grab your gear and let's go, everyone!"

The members of Team G-Wing swiftly did as they were told after checking the position of the alien base on their Cornerian satellite uplinks, gathering up their respective armaments and equipment, checking one more time to make sure that they had left nothing behind in the now considerably darkened clearing. During their various talks and weapon checks, the sun had vanished completely from the sky, giving way for an immensely obscuring blackness of night to spread across the vistas of the world. The only source of illumination to be found in the deep darkness was the pale, weak light from the moon far overhead in the clouds, which bathed everything in an otherworldly spectral luminescence, as if the things of this world were in truth not tangible, but rather ethereal and unreal; as if this world was nothing but a simulacrum, a figment of a mind warped beyond comparison.

It was in this crepuscular light that Team G-Wing advanced warily through the jungle. As they walked side by side constantly watching their surroundings, their weapons glinting in the light of the moon, they truly resembled a terrifying force to be reckoned with. Mikki with his muscular frame toting his Lylatian Gatling gun and crimson rocket launcher. John in his vest and with his cap impeccably on his head, carrying the enchanted katana Ragetooh across his back and his custom-made revolver-shaped blaster in a holster at his side. Jakob in his flowing night-black trenchcoat with one of his chrome-coated blasters out, which gleamed in the darkness as he meticulously scanned his surroundings. And finally Krystal in her aquamarine Team Star Fox-uniform, her sniper rifle across her back and her Cerinian staff in the belt at her side.

An army of four, each with his or her unique talents, which it would be detrimental for the enemy to underestimate.

--

The alien base was situated quite strategically in a thicket of trees in the terrain of the planet. The immense density of trees in this area of the jungle provided the alien defenders with a natural demarcation of their perimeter. However, the aliens were apparently not satisfied with having such a natural sconce to ward them from attacks, and as such they had chosen to erect a defensive wall around their base. This was understandably the first sight that greeted newcomers when they glimpsed the base between the trees.

The wall, as well as any other constructions within the base, was made from an unknown and shiny alloy, which bore a strange resemblance to steel of some sort. It reflected the white light of the moon in its mirror-like surface, not bearing any trace of paint or any other substance, which would reduce its reflection of light. At what would probably be designated as the front of the base, a gate had been built into the wall, clearly marking the entrance into the seemingly impregnable base, which occupied a rectangular area in the forest.

It was this gate that Mikki and John were currently facing, after having transmitted some brief messages to Ghost and Krystal over the comlink affirming that they were now in position. Since their decision to split up some way outside the perimeter, the sergeant and lieutenant had watched Jakob and Krystal as they moved around to the side of the base and prepared a position there, ready to find a way over the wall when Shield and Saber had distracted the enemies at the gate. Hidden well in the dense foliage in the thicket of trees, the two human commandos laid eyes upon the gate, judging their adversaries.

The gate in itself was built much like a normal gate in a castle or other type of fortress. It consisted of a door, which could open both inwards and outwards, undoubtedly for allowing passage for vehicles coming either from within the base or the terrain outside, even though Mikki and John did not see any signs of recent traffic. Tall watchtowers were in place on either side of the gate, manned by alien troopers with automatic laser rifles and fitted with powerful searchlights, which swept the immediate area in front of the gate with their prying cones of light. However, Shield and Saber had placed themselves in the densest foliage they could find, just as a precaution, and this seemed to pay off in the end, since the searchlights grazed their position every now and then, but did not expose them.

On the top of the wall above the gate, or what could be considered the battlements of the base, alien troopers walked back and forth at regular intervals. These troops, however, were outfitted differently from the ones who took up positions in the towers. The ones in the towers were just ordinary soldiers wearing camouflage uniforms, while the ones on the wall looked far more hideous. Firstly, they all seemed to have a rapid-firing laser cannon grafted onto their right wrist in place of their hand. Secondly, their left hand was also gone to allow the surgical implantation of a steel fist onto their left wrist, the appendage seeming to sparkle with a noticeable electric current. Thirdly, their heads were encased in large metal domes, like helmets fused to their skulls, and they seemed to move with a slow, rigid gait, staring vacantly into the air as they walked. It did not take John long to realize where he had seen these hulking monstrosities before, these terrifying troops that looked like crudely maintained cyborgs, and he did not hesitate in the least to let Mikki know about it.

"Dude, check out those guys on the wall!" Saber whispered to the sergeant, pointing to the cyborgs trudging back and forth, "I ran into them once before on this goddamn planet, if I'm not mistaken. See anything familiar about them?" he asked tensely, wanting to see if Shield remembered the same as he did when it came to these particular soldiers.

Mikki eyed them closely for some seconds, trying to get them to match with any mental picture he might have accumulated during his time in Lylat. Suddenly, his eyes widened considerably as he was struck by the psychic lightning bolt of recognition. He had indeed seen these creatures before, albeit on an occasion, which his mind had almost completely excluded from his memory, "Holy shit!" he gasped, not suppressing his amazement in any way, "It's those Exterminator-thingies from the invasion of Corneria a month ago! That fits with the aliens I saw on the mounds when I came here with my Landmaster-division. They were the same race!" Shield explained eagerly, finally starting to see coherence in all the past events. However, there was still something which eluded him, and he did not hesitate to say so, "But how can they be here? I killed their leader back on Corneria, that Ki'Lek-guy… or whatever his name was. I smashed his head to pieces on a stalactite, man!"

John looked at Mikki curiously upon hearing his claim. It did sound quite illogical that the shock troops of a deceased alien menace should be walking around on a world, which was located in such a remote quadrant of the Lylat System and as far away from Corneria as possible. Still, Saber had no way of gainsaying Shield's statement, since he had not witnessed the alleged elimination of the alien ringleader himself. Hence, all he could do was to shrug indifferently and remind the sergeant of their more pressing engagement, "Whatever you say, man. I can't deny it or anything. I wasn't there when you took him out, remember? But I'm sure we'll find some answers once we get in there. Care to clear the way for us?" he queried ironically, trying to redirect the sergeant's attention to the task at hand.

Instantly reminded of the duty they had to perform, banishing his worries to the most isolated recesses of his mind for the time being, Mikki smiled complacently and took his rocket launcher down from his back, getting into position with the large weapon resting on his shoulder. It gratified him that his comrades in arms placed such a large amount of trust in his abilities to take the enemy by surprise, often with violent results to boot, "Of course. You'd better get into position, man, because as soon as I fire this one, they'll know where I'm sitting. I'm counting on you to distract them while I switch weapons. This is my last rocket, so I'll have to use the Gatling-gun after this," Shield explained, having already thought through the most optimal ways of overcoming the ineluctable retributive wave of laser fire from the enemy once their position was compromised by Mikki's attack.

"You got it. I'll watch your back," Saber whispered back in affirmation before creeping further away from the sergeant, settling behind some trees at the right side of the gate, ready to unleash shots upon the enemy as soon as Shield had made his move. His blaster was already out of its holster and was now trained on the head of one of the cyborgs milling about on top of the wall. As it walked, the lieutenant continued to follow it with his gaze and his blaster fixed upon it, keeping it in his sights.

Meanwhile, Mikki studied the front of the base intensively, trying to find a vulnerable point in the otherwise impeccably structured defence. His gaze soon settled upon the supporting beams of one of the watchtowers; the collection of metal rods, which extended from the ground and held the small observation platform erect. The alien trooper manning the watchtower did not seem to expect in the slightest that some danger might eventually befall him. He just stood there, seeming to forsake his steady vigil for a more relaxed demeanour as the searchlight automatically scanned the ground beneath him. He had put his rifle down, so that it now rested against the railing that encircled the observation platform.

Shield inwardly agreed with himself that this was a most promising target, and more conclusive observations were not needed in order for him to make a decision. Aligning his aim on the point of convergence of the supporting beams just below the small platform, he routinely started to enter the state of equilibrium during his aiming process, which so often precipitated violent death for whoever was in his sights. His breathing became slow and stable, filling his ears like the soft sound of rolling waves on a beach, constantly increasing and decreasing in volume in a rhythmic manner. He let all emotional fluctuations within his mind recede in order to keep his aim as steady as possible, focusing only on the sight before him, whilst growing accustomed to the feeling of his rocket launcher balanced on his shoulder. Mikki spent several moments like this, remaining as inanimate as an artificially constructed replica of himself, just concentrating on that crucial point, which he needed to hit with his deadly piece of explosive ordnance. And then, fuelled by the lightest touch of vehemence in regard to the harsh and unforgiving nature of his enemy, Shield pulled the trigger.

The effect was both immediate and astounding. The small rocket freed itself from the front of the launching tube with a fiery flash, gaining speed in free flight and streaking towards the watchtower to the left with unerring accuracy. The alien trooper in the tower was suddenly jolted out of his state of laxity as he spotted the danger approaching; however, his reaction was so drastically slowed that he could only stare uncomprehendingly at the piece of hostile artillery as it slammed right into the metal beams beneath himt, which held the watchtower together. As could be logically predicted, the resulting shockwave and scorching blast of fire, which came when the rocket impacted with its target and exploded, sent the alien soldier flying from his post, limbs flailing hopelessly and wreathed in flame as he was blown over the wall and landed on the inside of the base with a dull _thud_, which was completely inaudible over the obstreperous noise caused by the explosion.

However, as the realization that they were under attack began to dawn on the remaining sentries, the full effects of Shield's attack had not yet become entirely clear. Slowly, with its stabilizing point now utterly obliterated, the stricken watchtower started to sag, its topmost part swaying ever so slowly towards the right. With a noticeable groan of twisted metal being bent completely out of shape, the observation platform finally toppled, falling in a bizarrely graceful arch before crashing forcefully into the watchtower to the right, instantly pulverizing the trooper stationed within it and crippling it as well. Like two metallic war-machines locked in a furious grapple, the watchtowers tumbled to the ground with an almost unbearable whine of metal grinding against metal, eventually coming to rest at the scorched earth, their broken parts jutting into the obsidian night sky like sinister bones from an unknown iron-clad being.

Immensely amazed by this domino-effect – which he had not even anticipated fully when he had taken the shot – Mikki allowed himself a snicker of contentment in the face of his own ingenuity, before suddenly becoming aware of the dire circumstances, which his strike had placed him in. On top of the wall, the five cyborg-like Exterminators had easily pinpointed his position, and were now all raising their wrist-mounted laser cannons in one synchronous, fluid motion, taking aim on the grouping of trees in which Shield was hiding. Seeing this unfold from a distance, the sergeant immediately threw himself down on the ground, hoping to minimize his exposure to the sundering hail of laser fire, which would undoubtedly come his way in a few heartbeats.

Such a volley never came. Instead, there was a loud, booming sound from somewhere to the right of Mikki's position, vaguely reminiscent of the discharge of a powerful particle weapon. This assumption proved to be true, as a bolt of incandescent energy was seen streaking swiftly through the dark night, colliding with the head of one of the Exterminators in an incredible shower of luminescent sparks, without a doubt due to the overload in the electronic systems in its head, which the direct hit had produced. As the cyborg swayed drunkenly back and forth before finally slumping to the ground, there was a distinct cheer from what had to be John's position, "Boom, headshot!"

In reality, Saber had kept his blaster trained at the head of one of the Exterminators ever since he had reached his position, just waiting for Shield to commence his attack. When this had been done, the enemy had found the sergeant's position and begun to target him, as was to be expected. However, this was where John provided a much needed avenue of salvation, since he eliminated his chosen target, effectively confusing the enemy sentries, who now had to deal with an attack coming from two places simultaneously. The decoy worked admirably, it seemed, for the Exterminators stood motionless and baffled for some time after their comrade had fallen, staring blankly out into the jungle, before appearing to return to reality and unleashing several volleys of ruby-tinted energy beams, which lanced through the night and struck down into the foliage with embarrassingly low accuracy, undoubtedly intended to harm the unseen assailants.

This brief moment of quietude, however, was all that Mikki needed to return his crimson Cornerian rocket launcher to his back and whip out his trusty Gatling gun, "See? I told you this would work! Nicely done, man!" he shouted across the thicket of trees to John, trying to be heard above the raucous din of war.

"Yeah, thanks! Keep your wits about you, dude. Here they come!" Saber warned as the front gate swung open and hostile troops poured out in the dozens, their laser cannons and automatic laser rifles flashing ominously as they opened fire on the thicket of trees, which housed the members of Team G-Wing. They formed a defensive formation just outside the wall, consisting of both ordinary alien troops and Exterminators gunning belligerently for the two human commandos.

As Mikki and John prepared their weapons in order to repel the attack, however, they were not deterred from this endeavour in the least. They knew they had accomplished what they set out to do in the first place. For by performing this tactical manoeuvre, which Shield and Saber had initially provoked the aliens to do, the enemies had unknowingly laid themselves wide open to attack.

--

"I'm counting three hostiles in the immediate vicinity. Two on patrol, and one stationary in a watchtower, presumably a sniper," Jakob recounted succinctly to Krystal as he scanned the outer perimeter of the alien base through Krystal's sniper scope. Since they had no ordinary military-grade binoculars with them, this impromptu piece of magnifying optics would have to do. Incidentally, it also succeeded in serving this function admirably.

After they had parted from their friends just outside the territory of the alien base. Ghost and Krystal had begun to look around for a viable observation point to use while they waited for Mikki and John to get the diversion going. Soon enough, their path took them past a tall and gnarled tree a small distance from the wall itself. Like an ancient, mystical tree-creature now petrified in eternal torpor, the tree sported many long and thick branches, which jutted out from its trunk at irregular intervals. The tree itself was very tall, rearing magnificently into the night and stretching its branches almost longingly in every direction, as if it wanted to break free of the spot to which it was rooted and wander off amidst its smaller cousins.

Because of the tree being so tall and filled with branches, the young human and Cerinian immediately deemed it a reasonable place for them to reconnoitre the area and estimate the activities of their enemies. As they climbed the tree, helping each other up occasionally, they started to see how all the branches effectively worked as a natural ladder, leading up to one of the densest group of branches, which was located approximately three meters above the upper edge of the perimeter wall, meaning that the duo would have a superb vantage point for staking out their enemies from up there.

Now, they were sitting on a branch each, not that far away from each other, trading the scope between one another in order to both observe the area, so that one might report something, which the other had accidentally missed. This was what Jakob was doing now, and as he relayed his report to Krystal, he also passed her the scope. She accepted it with a smile of gratitude before scanning the area herself for some time, trying to spot any enemy troops, which her friend might have missed. However, it did not seem as if there were any such troops, for Krystal merely turned to Ghost with a denying shake of the head, "I can't see anything other than those three in the area right behind the wall," she stated as she fastened the scope on top of her sniper rifle where it rightfully belonged, "I think our zone of insertion is clear enough, as long as we take out those three hostiles, and as long as Shield and Saber do their job properly,"

"Well, when it's coming from someone with such acute senses as you, I believe every word of it!" Jakob grinned confidently, "It only makes our job so much easier, then. If Shield and Saber can just distract all the other guards in the courtyard, I can't see that we should have any trouble getting in there," he reasoned matter-of-factly as he laid eyes on the complex once again, trying to establish a coherent picture of it in his mind as he watched it in its entirety from high above.

The alien base was constructed behind the rectangular metallic wall, which effectively made up the limit of the outer perimeter. Behind the wall, the base in itself was rather scarcely built, at least when it came to visible housings, entrances, barracks or other forms of buildings. A number of small, square and undecorated metallic buildings, presumably armouries, munitions depots and other such repositories, were grouped at the southern section of the base, facing the tree in which Jakob and Krystal were currently sitting. Small and narrow passageways winded through the throng of buildings, covered in shadows and only extremely vaguely lit by the pale moonlight coming from the sky above. It was through these passageways that two alien sentries were patrolling rather sluggishly, it seemed, for when viewed through the scope, they did not look like the most dedicated and vigilant guards in the way that they casually strolled along and had slung their laser rifles across their shoulders.

At the northern section of the base, there was a similar group of buildings, which were most likely barracks, for a steady flow of alien troops went to and from these buildings, some returning from patrolling the wall or other areas, while others headed out to relieve their colleagues by doing just that. It was between these two groups of buildings, however, that the most interesting feature of the entire base was to be found. A vast courtyard dominated the centre of the base completely, bustling with guards, complete with sniper-watchtowers in the corners. One of these watchtowers was placed right in front of the southern group of supply-buildings, and by observing its occupant a little bit, one would undoubtedly come to realize that this sniper had been tasked with keeping watch over both the courtyard and the armouries and repositories, for his point of view constantly alternated between looking out across the courtyard and scrutinizing the passageways between the storage buildings for intruders. He was the third target that Ghost and Krystal had identified when they scanned the area for hostile troops.

The reason for all of this extra protection, which was centred in the courtyard, was to be found in what the courtyard held, namely a small building with what appeared to be a heavily reinforced door at its front. Since they could not spot any other buildings in the base, which were prominent enough to possibly constitute the main area of operations for the aliens, Jakob and Krystal quickly deduced that this main part of the base was built underground, adding to the already mind-blowing size of the complex. The door in the middle of the courtyard had to be the only way down to these lower levels, but with the heavy load of sentries currently present, it would take considerable effort to get rid of them. That was where Mikki and John came in.

As his thoughts were just superficially grazing his brothers in arms, Ghost's comlink began to crackle with static, signalling him of an incoming transmission. Informing Krystal of this with a few quick and silent gestures, choosing this instead of verbal communication lest the enemies below hear him, the commander answered the pending transmission affirmatively, "This is Ghost. Go ahead."

"This is Shield," a well-known, slightly gruff voice answered him from the other end, "Saber and I are in position in front of the gate, and we're ready to lock, load, rock and roll!" the sergeant reported, the slightest hint of a content grin in his tone of voice, undoubtedly representing his anticipation when on the brink of an impending military conflict.

Hearing this characteristic tone in his friend's voice, Jakob could not help but chuckle, seeing as nothing apparently made Mikki feel fear or doubt, especially in military matters, "Of course you are. I wouldn't expect anything else from you two. You've always had a certain propensity for destruction!" he grinned with his British accent, but turned sincere just a moment afterwards, "Alright, you two do what you have to. Krystal and I will stand by and wait for your diversion to take effect. When it does, we'll move in and clear the perimeter of any troops we can find… which won't be a lot, judging from our preliminary scans of the place. In all probability, it only amounts to three!" he snickered before giving Shield the last bit of information regarding their mission, "When everything's clear, we'll radio you and tell you to meet us at our position, just like we planned. Everything clear?" he asked authoritatively, wanting to make sure that there was no doubt about the team's chosen course of action.

It seemed that Ghost would not have to doubt the perception of their plan by his friends, for the answer which Shield gave him was purely affirmative, "Yeah, we're clear. We'll do everything we can to keep those bastards away from you. If anything changes, we'll contact you and let you know about it. Hell, I wouldn't want to see you blown to bits by an ambush just because we hadn't informed you about it!" the sergeant affirmed humorously before terminating the transmission with a concise "Shield out!"

Satisfied with the dedication and clarity, which his team-mates demonstrated even on the field of battle, Jakob turned off his comlink with a smile, fully convinced that Mikki and John would indubitably accomplish their objectives just as they should. He was just about to drift into a passive reverie in order to clear his mind before the imminent offensive, when a voice spoke humbly to him from his right. He did not even have to turn his head to verify that it was Krystal talking to him.

"Ghost? Can I ask you something?" the young vixen asked him tentatively, seemingly trying not to sound explicitly demanding. However, underneath the polite tone of voice, it was clear that a matter of great importance for her resided. Intrigued by this strange duality, Jakob turned his head and laid eyes upon the face of the cerulean Cerinian.

"Yes, Krystal. Of course you can," he smiled amicably, wanting her to know that she should not feel restricted by time or place if she wanted to share something with him, "What seems to be the problem?" Still, when he asked her this, it became clear to him immediately that whatever was haunting her was not just something, which could easily be dismissed by way of a simple explanation, for her otherwise delicate features seemed to be suddenly darkened by a shadow of anxiety or worry as she gravely started to explain what was on her mind.

"Jakob, listen," Krystal urged him, not caring in the least that she did not use his codename. She wanted to get through to him and reach him on a personal level, and the best way she could do that was for her to use his real name, even in the field, "I… I've thought a lot about what our enemies might be capable of, and I haven't been able to find an answer… But I think that whatever their plans are for me, they're not very nice," Krystal stated, a sad smile flickering across her cerulean vulpine visage before she continued, "What worries me is that I'm prepared for the worst. And the worst, in my opinion, would be that they somehow drug me or mess with my mind and force me to go against you and the other guys… as your opponent!"

Here, the psychic torment which she was inflicting upon herself with this destructive thinking seemed to be too much for the young vixen, since she quietly stifled a few depressed sobs and sniffs before resuming her tragic line of thought, "Now, this is what I wanted to ask you: If they do that – make me fight you against my will – will you then do everything in your power to stop me? Even if…" she took a deep breath before finishing her question, "… Even if that meant killing me?"

Despite the brutality of her query, Ghost did not flinch or gasp out loud in wonder. Instead, he merely narrowed his eyes as he regarded his Cerinian friend curiously while she was sitting on the branch beside him, "Such inauspicious thoughts, Krys," he mumbled pensively, not believing these thoughts to be a part of her normally cheery mind-set, "What makes you think like that all of a sudden?"

Krystal shook her head, trying to sort out her own chaotic thoughts for a while, before she fixed her lustrous emerald eyes upon him, "I… I don't know…" she said and abruptly fell silent. Deep down inside, she knew full well what caused her to think as dismally as this, but it just pained her to say it. After some time of bracing herself, the young Cerinian finally let it out in one decisive statement, Jakob still looking at her expectantly, "Well, it's because of Fox… and the other guys on Team Star Fox. I fear that if our enemies turn me towards you, you'd of course just incapacitate me. However, if you did that and took me back to the Great Fox for treatment afterwards, there's no guarantee that I could be cured, especially not when the enemy is as unknown and relentless towards us as these guys are. Therefore, if I couldn't be cured and I turned on Fox and the others next…" she said, her voice quavering with sorrow and grief as she wiped a stray tear from her eye, "… I'd never be able to forgive myself for the atrocities I might commit to my future husband and his friends, even if I did it unwittingly. So that's why I implore you to kill me if you see any signs of that sort. You'll spare Lylat a great deal of suffering," she finished, looking at Ghost with swollen, tearful eyes.

It was obviously hard for Krystal to cope with her own terrible fate if she were captured and manipulated by the enemy, but it was even harder for her trusted friend to do so. Glancing quickly to the side, just to make sure that Mikki and John's diversion had not yet started, Jakob returned his gaze to the cerulean vixen, looking sternly at her as he addressed her with a voice, which bore an unmistakably sharp edge of slight anger, born out of pure and undisguised shock in the face of the Cerinian's harsh request.

"Krystal…" he started slowly and clearly, not wanting her to miss a word of what he had to say to her, "… Do you even realize what it is you ask of me? You ask me to take your life in cold blood," he emphasized, pronouncing every word slowly and making his meaning unequivocally clear, "You ask me to kill you, even though you're manipulated and thus not yourself. It seems you think that your entire personality will be eradicated if you're medically or psychically manipulated by the enemy, and hence that it wouldn't be you committing any evil acts. Well, I think otherwise. Your own personality is simply suppressed. It's merely dormant, lying right beneath whatever's controlling you, but it's still there. Therefore, by killing you in your manipulated state, I wouldn't just be eliminating a tool of our enemies… I'd be killing one of my dearest and most caring friends in the entire universe! This is insane! I can't do this," Ghost exclaimed woefully, fighting to restrain his emotions from overriding his otherwise rational self.

In response to this, Krystal looked intensely at him, trying to figure out the meaning of what he had just told her, before she nodded gently and reached across the gap between them, catching hold of his gloved right hand, which was hanging idly from his side; he used the left to support himself by maintaining a grip on the branch above him. This caused Jakob to noticeably wince and direct his full attention towards her, which was just what she hoped for, "Yes, Jakob. I know what I ask of you, and I wouldn't ask you this if I wasn't aware of the consequences," she explained softly, eyeing him insistently as she did so, "If it should come to this, just remember that my personality is still there, just like you said… and that my last wish as myself would be for you to prevent me from causing any more destruction than I was forced to," she concluded reasonably, giving the commander's hand a reassuring squeeze as she said it.

Krystal's poignant statement seemed to hit home, for Jakob downcast his eyes contemplatively for some time, doubtless considering alternatives to this drastic measure, before nodding weakly in acceptance of his friend's brutal request and levelling his gaze at the cerulean vixen before him. The mere thought of possibly ending her young and prosperous years by his own hand made him shiver with discomfort, but he nonetheless banished these feelings of doubt from his mind to make room for an uncompromising acceptance, "Alright, Krystal…" he sighed, finally acquiescing to her demands, "If that's what'll make you feel better, then so be it. I swear that if the enemy somehow gains control over you and uses you as a weapon against us and Team Star Fox, I'll…" he cringed slightly as the next term came into his mind, "… eliminate you instead of incapacitating you, in order to ensure that you can't inflict any unintended damage upon your loved one and his team-mates, as you've said to me yourself. However, I hope you understand that such an action wouldn't come without a price. I'd also eliminate a part of myself if I were forced to proceed to such extreme measures," Ghost reminded her, wanting her to know that he could not just dispose of her as coldly and efficiently as any other enemy.

Krystal seemed to understand quite clearly that eliminating her for the greater good of Lylat required somewhat of an emotional sacrifice from Jakob, and as she withdrew her hand from the grasp she had maintained, she did not hesitate to let him know this, "Of course I know that, and it isn't as if you should consider it a primary solution. It's only when no other ways exist for you to break their control over me," the young Cerinian explained, wanting to make it perfectly clear that she did not see this course of action as a primary resort, either.

This seemed to calm the frustrated commander's nerves a bit, for he took a couple of deep breaths to steady his frantically beating heart – he was still quite on edge after just having agreed to such a fateful pledge – and looked back at her, this time with his usual calmness dominating his gaze and demeanour, "Right. That's good to hear, Krys; it really is," he confessed, before thinking of something rather relevant, which he felt obliged to ask her, "Oh, and Krystal… I assume that this pledge goes both ways? If the enemy somehow manages to gain control over me, I couldn't imagine a better way to go than by your merciful claws," he complimented her, and even though his compliment was somewhat morbid in nature, it did not stop the cerulean vixen from sending him a smile and nodding in affirmation.

Their thoughtful demeanours were abruptly shattered and replaced with those of alertness as a thunderous boom echoed through the night, like an immense explosive charge being detonated somewhere far away. Swinging his head to the right to locate the source of the disturbance, Ghost saw one of the two watchtowers in front of the main gate being consumed by a ravenous ball of flame before slowly toppling over and collapsing, taking the other tower with it as it fell. A few seconds afterwards, a white energy bolt shot out from the thicket of trees in front of the fortress, hitting an enemy sentry squarely in the head. To Jakob, it seemed as if the head simply disintegrated before the body fell down limply on top of the fortress wall.

"That's got to be Shield and Saber," he mumbled to himself, slightly amazed that they had managed to pull off such an effective diversion as this one, which actually involved crippling the defences of the enemy profoundly, "If that's their distraction, I daresay that it's successful."

"It seems like it, Ghost," Krystal confirmed. She had now disengaged the scope from her sniper rifle yet again and was looking through it, observing the guards in the courtyard. As events unfolded, the young Cerinian could not hold back a gasp of amazement before she lowered the scope from her eye and faced her friend fully, "You won't believe this", she started, positively brimming with happiness, "but all the guards in the courtyard are actually moving out to the gate, even three of the snipers. That means there's only the three guards left that we saw from here; the two on patrol and the sniper. We only need to eliminate them to clear the perimeter!" she grinned, not bothering to suppress her joy at the turn of events.

Now positively surprised, Jakob took the scope from her and looked. Her observation was indeed correct, for through its circular field of vision, the commander saw countless alien troopers leave their stations in both the barracks and the courtyard around the reinforced entrance to the lower levels, in order to provide assistance at the gates. They left in a hurry, pouring out of one end of the courtyard in one large horde, their metallic weapons glinting ominously in the dark night. Ghost was sure that Mikki and John could easily stand their ground against these defenders; even though the sight looked rather intimidating through the scope, they had faced worse odds in their career.

With a mirthful grin lining his lips as well because of the unexpected and total success of the diversion, Jakob gave the scope back to Krystal, "Well, the guys just blew up one of their watchtowers and coincidentally took the other one out as well, so I can easily see why the aliens might be just a little pissed," he joked as Krystal mounted the scope on top of her rifle yet again, looking at Ghost as he began to survey his surroundings, "Okay then. Now we need to make our move… and we're fortunate that nature itself has decided to provide us with a feasible way of ingress," he said with undisguised approval, eyeing the large branch in front of him.

The branch was very wide and with lots of gnarled growths jutting out from it, meaning that there would be plenty of footholds for him to use when he walked on it. The reason that this branch was well suited for the role as an entrance into the alien base was that it stretched itself out from the trunk of the tree, spanning the gap between the tree and the wall of the base. It ended right before the top of the wall, meaning that Jakob could use it as a sort of natural tightrope to deploy himself right on top of the wall.

Stepping out on the branch tentatively, applying some pressure to his first steps to make sure that the branch could in fact carry his weight, Jakob began to advance warily across the branch. Before he had taken more than two steps, however, he turned his head and looked back at Krystal, who had already taken her sniper rifle down from her back, and was now sitting with it in her hands, ready to use it in case things got troublesome for her friend on the ground, "Good luck, Ghost!" she smiled warmly, giving him a friendly wave, "I'll keep you covered from up here. When the area is clear, just inform me about it and I'll be right there with you," the young Cerinian promised.

In reply to this polite promise of backup, Jakob nodded in affirmation and sent her an amiable smile, "Right, I'll keep that in mind, and I'll contact you when I've cleared the area. Be safe, Krys. See you in a minute!" he grinned before returning to the matters at hand.

Moving slowly and precariously, the commander began to cross the gnarled branch, which stretched out into the air. As he walked, feeling the stable branch under his feet and keeping his gaze fixed on its end above the perimeter wall, Ghost tried fiercely to block out the sounds of shots coming from the gate at his right, namely the incessant deep booming sounds of Mikki and John's weapons interspersed with the shrill screeching sound of the more low-powered laser rifles that the enemy troops were using. He did not want this din of war to break his carefully attained equilibrium as he found himself in this predicament. One false move could mean that he would plummet to his untimely demise, and he did not fancy that thought much.

Still, his mental exertions seemed to pay off in the end, for as he finally reached the end of the branch, Jakob could no longer hear the sound of gunfire being exchanged as he had effectively excluded it from his mind to focus fully on walking across the branch. Seeing his dangerous walk finally coming to an end, Ghost breathed a sigh of relief as he jumped across the small gap between the branch and the wall, landing softly on top of the metallic construction. As he let his eyes sweep across the passageway below him – a narrow corridor-like passage which ran between the wall and one of the metallic storage buildings right in front of him – Jakob decided to contact Krystal and inform her of his status, seeing as he could spot no immediate danger at his point of insertion. Fiddling slightly with his comlink, he managed to open a frequency, which only connected to her comlink, "This is Ghost reporting," he spoke, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I've crossed the branch. I am now in position right at the enemy perimeter. Proceeding to…"

Jakob suddenly fell silent in anxiety, effectively cutting himself off from reporting anything else. As he had spoken to Krystal, he had continued his sweep of the area below him, and this vigilance now seemed to yield results. Coming around the corner of a building to his far left, Ghost noticed the shadowy shape of one of the patrolling guards as the alien trooper strolled along casually, hands dangling idly by his side and the laser rifle slung across his shoulder in its strap. He was clad in standard grey military fatigues, meaning that he almost blended in with the dreary metallic surroundings and the shadows cast by the buildings. However, what broke this monotony of colours was his face, for his skin was an odd, slightly luminescent purple colour, signifying that he was not an ordinary human but an alien, despite his body having an extremely humanoid form.

Upon seeing this enemy approaching his position, Jakob's mind-set immediately changed to being objective and coldly calculating as he pondered on what to do. Should he jump down and hope that he was quick enough to eliminate him right now, or should he just wait for the guard to pass him and try to sneak up on him afterwards? It was a quandary, which he thought fiercely about for some time, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the alien trooper as he came closer. Finally reaching a decision with himself, he resumed his transmission to Krystal, his voice now only an anxious hiss as he felt his muscles tense instinctively and become taut, ready for action.

"Hostile sighted," Ghost whispered into the comlink, "Preparing to engage."

--

Perimeter patrol was a duty much abhorred by the alien sentries. Ever since the aliens had first established their base on this planet, it had quickly become a source of irascibility among the guards to be selected for perimeter patrol. The reason for this was that the outer perimeter of the base was, without a doubt, the least exciting place in the entire compound. If one were assigned to courtyard or even front gate duty, one would have the chance of being able to converse with one's comrades among the sentries. This opportunity never existed when one was on perimeter patrol, and as such, guards assigned to patrol the outer perimeter had a tendency to lapse into a state of torpor and boredom, just waiting to finish their shift and return to the barracks to relax with their friends before being sent out on patrol again.

This was also the attitude, which was predominantly displayed by the lone guard walking the perimeter, right between one of the armouries and the wall. He knew that one of his comrades was also patrolling the perimeter somewhere in the immediate vicinity, but he could simply not muster the strength of will to break off from his patrol and go out to locate him. Besides, the trooper was convinced that he would see him again once they returned to the barracks, so there was no point in wasting valuable time, which could instead be spent on completing one's patrol faster.

Thusly caught up in his own private musings about his situation, the alien sentry did not pay much attention to the world around him, even though that was the goal of patrolling a place, namely to identify any anomalies and make sure that nothing was out of place. Quite paradoxically, he forsook his vigilance for the outside world and instead directed in inwards, absorbed in his own thoughts as he walked on casually.

Because of this concentration on his own mental debate, there were many things in the outside world that the alien sentry only registered superficially, and some things which he completely missed, one of them being the dark, shadowy form perched on top of the perimeter wall. The form, seemingly clad in some black flowing garb, tracked the sentry's every movement with an eye, which glowed a vibrant green. That was the only identifiable feature that one could glimpse if one looked at the form from below; the rest was completely blurred out by shadows and the scarce illumination from the moon above.

When the alien trooper had approached his position, Jakob had waited anxiously for him to pass, hoping that his assumption about the guard being mentally absent from this world was right. To better follow the movements of his enemy, he had switched on the night vision-feature, which was built into the vision intensifier placed on his damaged left eye, and his darkened surroundings were immediately illuminated in a shimmering green light, cutting through the darkness and allowing him to see things much more clearly. Ghost had not moved a muscle and hardly even dared to breathe as the guard passed by right below him without even casting a glance in his direction. When the sentry had moved some distance away from him, the human commander had decided that the time to act was upon him.

Leaning himself slightly forwards in anticipation of his next manoeuvre, Jakob jumped down from the wall with a decisive hop, his trenchcoat billowing around him in the night as a veritable ghost's shroud as he fell the short distance and landed smoothly and silently on the ground below. He had trained this kind of silent infiltration jump countless times in the training quarters on the Great Fox for just such an opportunity as this, and now he felt that he was actually putting the training to good use. He remembered from his training sessions that even Fox with his vulpine senses had not been able to hear him touch down. If someone with such keen senses as Fox could not hear him land when he had trained the jump, Ghost very much doubted that this lazy alien trooper could do that.

Preparing to effectuate the next part of his plan, the commander stayed in his crouched position as he sneaked slowly and warily towards the sentry, staying in the shadows of the wall and placing one booted foot in front of the other, distributing the weight in his steps evenly as he had been taught, so as not to compromise his position by stepping down too hard. He had an advantage in that the trooper walked as slowly as he did; it allowed Jakob to catch up with him without having to increase his speed drastically. The alien sentry did not seem to hear or see anything at all, not even as Ghost patiently closed the distance between them meter by meter; he was still walking with his slow, bored gait, not suddenly spinning around to check something he had heard.

When he was merely three meters from the lone guard, Jakob found his right hand drifting instinctively towards his combat knife, which was placed in its sheath on the back of the belt around his waist. As he grasped the rubber-clad hilt of the small weapon in his gloved hand, he felt his muscles become taut yet again, building up momentum for the killing blow, which he had to perform in just a few seconds. As he focused on his target again after briefly drifting off into this reverie, Ghost found himself to be in a most advantageous position. The alien trooper had stopped his walk, leaning himself against the corner of one of the buildings, exhaling gently as he visibly relaxed for a while, and thus completely let his guard down. Fortunately for the human commander, the corner was practically coated in deep shadow, so it would not be a problem to perform the sneak attack undetected.

However, as he regarded his chosen target curiously from his shadowy place of hiding next to the wall, Jakob suddenly felt a strange emotion catch hold of him, which did not normally seize him in battle: The disturbing emotion of anger. Here before him, he realized, was one of the hostile members of a relentless alien race, who not only threatened the safety of the Lylat System, but also the well-being of his irreplaceable human friends Shield and Saber, and possibly the sanity of a certain young vixen he knew and treasured highly as a close and inseparable friend. These disgraceful creatures sought to rob Krystal of her future life and experiences, not to mention her imminent wedding with Fox McCloud, the undisputed love of her life. How an entire race could be so callous, and to what end, the commander would never be able to fathom, and he did not care about the answer, either. All he knew was that he could not let these despicable creatures live while they threatened his friends and their prosperous future. This thought concerning Mikki, John and Krystal was enough to fuel his dormant, yet volatile, ire, which prompted him to attack immediately. Normally, he would probably just have slit the throat of his target coldly and efficiently, but his newly discovered anger about these enemies caused his action to be a slightly more vicious attack than was normally his standard.

Unsheathing his knife with a quick flick of his right hand and baring his teeth in an inaudible snarl, Ghost surged forwards from the shadows, reaching the alien trooper in two long strides, attacking from behind. Before the sentry even had time to turn his head or yell out in surprise, Jakob clamped his free left hand across the alien's lower jaw and mouth, preventing him from screaming and alerting other sentries to his position. Acting swiftly and proficiently, but yet driven by his fury, the commander stabbed the shining blade of his knife into the middle of the sentry's back, unleashing two consecutive thrusts with his full weight behind each of them. He felt the soft flesh giving way as it was severed by the blade, and he heard the wet squishing sounds of the knife stabbing into the man along with the alien trooper's muffled, gurgling cries of pain, before Jakob resolutely twisted his knife in a practised killing manoeuvre, effectively severing the sentry's spine with his blade in one powerful stroke. He almost believed that he could faintly hear it snapping. The alien trooper convulsed and gagged, before finally going limp with a moan of pain, and as Ghost pulled his knife back out and let go of the guard, the body fell onto the ground in a crumpled heap, the glassy dead eyes of the trooper staring almost uncomprehendingly at the figure above him. The whole affair had only taken three seconds and had practically been totally silent.

Feeling his rage slowly dissipate upon having eliminated one of his chosen targets, Jakob cleaned his knife in the dead soldier's clothes, trying to wipe away as much of the crimson blood as possible. However, when he had done the best he could, he could not prevent a small part of it from still staining the blade. Shrugging indifferently, the commander sheathed the weapon again before dragging the limp body of the soldier up against the wall in the shadowy corner, hoping to arrange it so that passers-by would just regard it as him sleeping on his post. It was not the most effective way of hiding a newly slain foe, Ghost knew, but for now it would have to do, since it seemed as if the perimeter was quite lightly patrolled anyway.

As he turned around and began to sneak through the passageway in the direction that the guard had come from, Jakob decided to inform Krystal of his status. Tapping the comlink in his ear in order to activate it, he spoke into it, knowing that he was on the frequency connected to Krystal's comlink, "Threat neutralized," he concisely informed her in a hushed whisper, knowing full well that she was listening, "Advancing…" He did not receive a reply before he turned off the device, but that was not necessary. What mattered was that he had informed her of his current status, so she could keep him covered from her vantage point in the tree.

Sneaking along the small building, Ghost could not help but cast a glance around himself, taking in the plain, metallic and featureless vista of buildings all around him. It was somehow quite unpleasant for him to see that a race could build constructions like these, which seemed so bereft of any personality or decoration whatsoever, so destitute of a soul involved in their making. Still, he reasoned, it fitted the aliens quite well. With their minds comprised seemingly only of evil and animosity, they were quite soulless being from nature's hand, and hence it seemed plausible that this was the only way they knew how to build things.

Upon approaching the corner, however, Ghost heard something that jolted him from his contemplation and instinctively made him stiffen, flattening himself against the wall of the storage building to stay concealed in the shadows. As he did, he felt obliged to inform Krystal of this, and he did so with a tap of his comlink and a short, whispered report, "Possible hostile on approach. Stand by."

The sound was coming from the passageway, which ran between this building and the next, ultimately ending in a passage to the courtyard. From the steady, regular noise of footsteps, boots against stone, it seemed as if the second sentry, which he and Krystal had spotted from the tree, was actually advancing down the corridor towards him, maybe coming from the section of buildings, which were on the outskirts of the courtyard. Apparently, these guards had decided with themselves that their colleagues could take care of the trouble by the gate, and so had elected to patrol this area still.

Jakob kept a steady vigil and strained his hearing as much as he could, trying to assess the distance between him and the unseen sentry. Judging from the apparent closeness of the footsteps to his corner, it seemed as though the alien trooper was walking alongside the wall, which led up to the corner where Ghost was hiding, meaning he would pass him rather closely by. However, as the commander could actually see the shadow cast by the sentry's boots just outside the corner, it was confirmed that his estimation of the enemy's position had been correct, and now his true plans for attacking the enemy were revealed.

With all his might, Jakob swung his right elbow around the corner in a vicious swing, intending to use the element of surprise to his advantage. His strategy seemed to pay off, since his elbow collided with something, which broke with a sickening crunch. Judging from the stifled groan of agony he heard shortly afterwards, he had apparently broken the trooper's nose. Stepping quickly around the corner, Ghost saw the sentry for the first time. He looked pretty much like his comrade, if one only excluded the steady stream of blood, which poured down from his ruined face. He shook his head and was evidently quite disoriented after having suffered a frontal assault. Using this disorientation to his advantage, just like he had planned to do, the commander swiftly seized the trooper by the collar of his uniform and dragged him forcibly around the corner before catching hold of the alien's neck with one of his arms clasped around it from behind. He used his free hand to get a hold of the soldier's jaw and did not even allow the sentry to gag in surprise before twisting his arms forcefully in different directions, breaking the trooper's neck with a disgusting, cracking sound of bones and tendons being broken, much like a twig being crushed underfoot in a forest. The alien soldier let out a final wheeze and then said nothing more, slumping limply to the ground as Jakob let go of him. Again, the commander took pride in the silence of the kill, the trademark of a perfect infiltration.

Arranging the body in the same way he had done with the other, in the sleeping position against the wall, Ghost suddenly realized that the perimeter had now almost been cleared, judging from what he and Krystal had seen from the tree. There was only the sniper in the watchtower left now, but he did not dare to go up against him alone. If the commander were spotted in an unfortunate moment by the sniper from his advantageous vantage point, it would doubtless mean his demise. From this, Jakob gathered that he needed help with performing this final kill before the perimeter was completely cleared… and he knew just who to ask.

Warily sneaking on through the passageway, approaching the passage towards the courtyard, Ghost noticed an area of heavy shadow cast by the buildings, just before the terrain opened up and the courtyard took over from the narrow corridor between the supply-buildings. Deeming this the perfect place to stay and wait for help to arrive, Jakob allowed himself a smile as he slunk into the shadows, squatting to keep himself out of sight. He could see the now abandoned courtyard right in front of him, with three of the sniper towers standing empty. The fourth was still occupied, however, and Ghost only needed to turn his head to the right to spot it. A couple of buildings away, the last watchtower was in place, a ladder leading up to the central platform, where the sniper was standing. This particular alien soldier seemed much more alert and on edge than any of his comrades, as evidenced by his continuous shifting position so that he covered every inch of the base at regular intervals with his field of fire.

Knowing full well what he was doing, Jakob tapped his comlink again and opened the channel to Krystal, speaking in the same hushed whisper as before, "This is Ghost. Two threats have been eliminated, repeat, two targets down. We're almost there. The third is the sniper, but I can't get to him on my own. I require assistance at my position. Otherwise, the perimeter is clear. You may proceed," he reported, waiting to hear his Cerinian friend affirm his request.

It did not take long for Krystal to report back, and hearing her accented voice in his ear almost made the commander believe that she was standing right beside him again, "Copy that, Ghost. I'm moving to your position now. We'll take care of that little problem. Krystal out!" she cheerily reported before terminating the connection.

Knowing that it would take a while for Krystal to get there, the commander allowed himself a brief time of respite from worrying about his current situation. Either way, Jakob had done what he could for now, and there was nothing more he could do until Krystal showed up. In his mind, he already began to further develop the inchoate ideas for a plan, which had formed in his mind when he had seen the watchtower with the sniper. It was a daring plan, indeed, but he saw no reason why it could not work. Most likely, the sniper would notice Krystal when she advanced through their territory… but if these aliens thought of her in the way that Ghost had sensed that they did, this was precisely what he hoped would happen.

Just before he leaned back against the wall to relax properly, a new fact entered Jakob's mind. By actively involving Krystal in the operation with his request, he had deliberately put her in harm's way. If something happened to her now, he could not blame it on misfortune, uncertainty or anything else. It was entirely his own mistake.

However, Ghost thought vengefully, as long as his heart was still beating, he would not let anything like that happen.


End file.
